Constant as the Sun
by Artemis Acorn
Summary: When Elizabeth accepted Mr. Darcy's proposal of marriage, Mr. Bennet complicated his consent with a condition, known only to himself and Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth must spend the season in London, associating with the first circles of society as Mr. Darcy's fiancee. If Elizabeth is unhappy with the experience, Mr. Bennet will withdraw his consent. Will their love withstand the test?
1. Darcy's Folly

**A/N - **I have been asked to provide a summary of **OTP** and a brief overview of where we left off, since **Constant as the Su**n is the continuation of the** One Thread Pulled** story. This overview is meant as a refresher for those who read **One Thread Pulled**, but can't recall the details. If you haven't read **OTP**, but intend to do so, it may spoil it for you if you continue reading this introduction. In **OTP**, although Darcy's initial opinion of Elizabeth was the same at the Assembly Ball, she did not hear what he said. Without having heard his insult, her opinion against him is not nearly as fierce, and so their interactions led to his falling in love sooner. Jane fell from the horse on the way to Netherfield, and in her delirium was rather vocal in her admiration of Bingley. There was an embroidered handkerchief, a feather, a dog named Apollo, a horse named Romeo and a shared sunrise before the Netherfield Ball. Lady Catherine had delivered Collins to Longbourn and had pointed Collins in the way of Elizabeth, but Elizabeth and Jane had attempted to re-direct him toward the besotted Mary, whose interactions with Collins seemed to improve him and her efforts to attract his attention had most certainly improved her appearance.

Although Wickham had attempted to share his story of evil Darcy with Elizabeth, he was never able to do so. On the contrary, Darcy had warned Mr. Bennet of the danger of allowing Wickham to be around his daughters, so Wickham was unable to impose himself on the Bennets. When Richard showed up in Meryton to aid Darcy in dealing with their old nemesis, Wickham fled to London.

During the first set of dances, Darcy flirted, during the second, Richard put his foot in his mouth, accidentally informing Elizabeth of Darcy's affections. Elizabeth fled to the hall by the Library, and Anne brought her back. The dynamic between Elizabeth and Darcy had changed - they had an unspoken understanding. Elizabeth, who had unknowingly been exposed to illness at the cottage of a tenant, became ill during the supper hour of the Netherfield Ball and was taken to Darcy's bed chamber due to a lack of available rooms. Jane and Anne nursed her, and Jane became aware of Elizabeth's regard for Mr. Darcy due to Elizabeth's fevered murmurings. Due to a blackmail threat from Wickham regarding what had occurred with Georgiana at Ramsgate, Darcy must return to London and leaves Elizabeth to Bingley, Richard, Jane and Anne's care. Collins shows up to propose to Elizabeth with Mrs. Bennet's blessing and makes an inappropriate advance on a weakened Elizabeth. Richard interferes and Collins is ejected from Netherfield.

In London, a wounded Wickham shows up at Darcy House, and dies on the dining room table, preventing Darcy's immediate return to Netherfield. Richard goes to London to speak to him and together they must solve the mystery of what happened to Wickham before they can return to Hertfordshire. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, um, I mean the Bingley estate, an inherited tendency toward stress-triggered mental health issues is revealed when Caroline begins to hear voices telling her to poison Elizabeth - a feat she is unsuccessful in doing. The Hursts remove her from Netherfield on Bingley's orders, and Darcy returns with Georgiana to Hertfordshire.

Collins proposes to Mary and is turned down. He goes to Lucas Lodge and proposes to Charlotte and is accepted, but is quickly stricken with the same illness that Elizabeth had acquired. (The disease was transferred when he placed his hand over her mouth to silence her protests.)

Darcy's proposal to Elizabeth is nearly turned down, as Elizabeth considers the sacrifice he is making in marrying her to be a high price for him to pay, but after some insistent coaxing, she accepts him. Mr. Bennet refuses to consent to an immediate marriage, but sets down the condition that Elizabeth must have a season in London and still desire to go through with the wedding at the end of it. Bennet is convinced that she will despise the society that she will be thrust into, and will be too miserable to go through with the marriage. Darcy is not allowed to inform Elizabeth of the condition.

Jane and Bingley get married before Christmas, and after Christmas, prior to their departure to London, Lady Catherine attempts to bribe a still-weak Elizabeth into jilting Darcy. Elizabeth refuses, and Darcy whisks her away to London where she is to live with her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner during the season.

One more thing before we begin. Many thanks to my new Betas - Kris and Betty. We're going to have a lot of fun!

* * *

**Chapter One – Darcy's Folly**

The sun seemed not to rise on Gracechurch Street, until ten o'clock in the morning, when Mr. Darcy came to call. The Gardiner's breakfast was still steaming on the sideboard when he was announced. With a nod of his head to the butler, Mr. Gardiner consented to receive the guest and his would-be nephew was ushered into the dining room.

Elizabeth Bennet had spent the entirety of the night anxiously reconsidering the wisdom of her situation—yet she gained immediate relief in the arrival of her betrothed. The look on his face reassured her; the warmth of his eyes as they gazed upon her whispered the truth of his love though his lips remained silent. She stood when he entered the room, and rallied at the sight of him as the sunflower lifts its head to the dawn.

"Mr. Darcy." She bobbed a demure curtsy with her head, and although her eyes shone with pleasure at seeing him, she censured, "My aunt and uncle are not accustomed to receiving callers at such an hour as this. I fear you have caught us unprepared for visitors."

Darcy bowed slightly to the Gardiners, an apology written on his face. "I beg you—forgive my intrusion. My manners must seem all that is atrocious. I have no explanation for my behavior but this; the presence of Miss Bennet in your home is to me as the song of the siren was to Odysseus. As I had no-one to contain me, I found myself drawn here to your door, quite powerless to contain myself."

Elizabeth pressed her lips together to suppress her laughter. "You astonish me Mr. Darcy! I had not thought you capable sir, of such a pretty speech—in front of my relations no less." She abruptly stopped, looking at those very relations for some reaction to their discourse. Her young cousins were covering their mouths to stifle the giggles that threatened to leak through their lips. Her uncle and aunt however, had the appearance of being genuinely charmed by his manner – the gentlemanly camaraderie that had developed between Mr. Darcy and her uncle in the days before Jane's wedding remained a source of amazement to Elizabeth whose former belief was that Mr. Darcy simply hated everyone when he first met them. Her uncle and aunt were the only exception she had witnessed.

Darcy was secretly delighted with her teasing, and answered in all seriousness. "You informed me yourself that you dearly love to laugh. I believe that, in light of our impending nuptials, it is my duty to afford you whatever pleasure I may. I recall that whims and inconsistencies amuse you, is this not so?"

"Oh yes." Elizabeth's eyes lit at the reference to their long-ago conversation. "Follies and foibles also entertain."

"I see." Mr. Darcy replied with a slim trace of humor. "I had thought to present my arrival at this early hour as a whim, but alas, I discover on arrival that I may have chosen ill in determining the best approach to amuse you. Am I whimsical as I had hoped to be, or have I exposed a tendency to folly and foolishness where you are concerned?

Elizabeth was about to reply when Mr. Gardiner chuckled and interrupted their repartee. "Mr. Darcy, as Elizabeth's uncle, I must remind you that she is under my protection. A want of restraint where she is concerned would be folly indeed. What say you Mrs. Gardiner, shall we send for a length of rope?"

"Rope is unnecessary Uncle," Elizabeth said with an impish grin and twinkling eyes, "I will vouch for him. My intended husband prides himself on being under good regulation at all times, do you not Mr. Darcy?"

"Your niece is correct—there is no need for rope, I assure you." Darcy nodded. "I find that my restraint is intact after all."

"I am glad to hear it. I should make you aware that I employ many large sailors who would be delighted to restrain you on behalf of my niece—should you find your own restraint lacking." Although his tone was light, the truth of his words was evidenced by the stern look on his face, and a heavy silence fell upon the room.

"Mr. Darcy, we are nearly finished, but please, won't you join us as we break our fast?" Mrs. Gardiner offered cordially. "You will soon be our nephew after all, and your morning pursuits have surely whetted your appetite."

"Mrs. Gardiner," Darcy said as he took the seat nearest to where he stood, "I accept your kind offer with great pleasure." With a triumphant glance at Elizabeth, he settled in to break his fast.

Elizabeth resumed her seat, directly across from Darcy, marveling at his ability to prove amiable and gracious to her relations when she had dared hope merely for civility on his part. She sat between two of her young cousins, who had jockeyed for a position at the table next to her, prior to Mr. Darcy's arrival. Lillian and Florence flanked Elizabeth, with Isaac and Simon sitting next to their sisters. Eight year-old Lillian was adept with her knife and fork, but six-year old Florence required assistance, a service her cousin Elizabeth had rendered often in the past.

Elizabeth became increasingly self-conscious in this undertaking when she realized that she was the object of Mr. Darcy's intense scrutiny, and when she had completed it, she arched a brow and spoke boldly to their guest. "How would you rate my performance Mr. Darcy? Did I not make excellent work of slicing Flora's ham? I am convinced that Lord Byron himself would be inspired to compose a sonnet to minced meat had he witnessed my execution of the task just now."

"Why yes," Darcy replied, his eyes widened and darkened as his gaze settled on her, "I believe even Lord Byron would grant you some credit and spare you a few verses. I imagine, were the pig still alive, that he would be most gratified by the precision of your butchery and write you a sonnet as well."

Flora snickered, and Isaac made his best imitation of a pig sound.

"Children," their mother warned, "you must behave if you are to eat at the table. Shall I send you back to the nursery?"

"No Mama." Isaac said, pouting. "That man was talking to Lizzy about a pig."

"I heard him." Aunt Gardiner looked at Elizabeth with a half-smile. "Your cousin Lizzy was teasing him. Lizzy, you must not tease Mr. Darcy in front of the children." She feigned a frown.

"Please accept my apologies Mr. Darcy." Aunt Gardiner was cutting Simon's ham as she spoke. "My niece forgets herself. The Bennet household, as you well know, is not so proper as we are in town, being rooted in country manners." Elizabeth colored at her aunt's excuse and cautiously looked at her betrothed.

"Country manners?" Said Mr. Darcy with an earnest smile at Elizabeth, "I think they're charming."

ooOoo

After breakfast, Mr. Darcy noted that the weather was mild for winter, and after observing that the exercise would be beneficial to her health, offered to walk out with Elizabeth. The suggestion was met with enthusiasm by Elizabeth, but her uncle declared that it would be improper for them to venture out unchaperoned, and he could not allow it. His own schedule was occupied that day with urgent business affairs.

Mrs. Gardiner, with an indulgent glance at Elizabeth, offered to serve as chaperone, which inspired her husband to concede the point.

"It appears that you will have your walk my dear; the accommodations of my wife will certainly be sufficient for propriety. You are fortunate that the children have already gone upstairs or I fear you would have acquired a party of attendants sufficient to for a queen!"

Elizabeth seemed poised to summon her cousins when Mr. Darcy suggested that they walk not to the local park, but take a carriage to Kensington Gardens instead, where they could traverse the pathways unimpeded by traffic.

"I have never been there! It sounds delightful, but is it allowed?"

"Oh yes," Aunt Gardiner said smiling, "the Prince opens the gardens for the enjoyment of his subjects during the day until sunset. The grounds are delightful and vast; one can walk for hours."

"Excellent." Darcy nodded. "My carriage awaits—there is no need to call for yours. We may leave at your earliest convenience."

When the ladies had donned their outerwear, they exited the house by way of the front door, where the Darcy carriage was on approach, a groomsman leading the team to keep them warm. A second, older carriage of nearly the same quality, followed at a slight distance. "My, what beautiful horses!" exclaimed Aunt Gardiner looking at Darcy's carriage, and then beyond it. "I have never seen that carriage on this street before – it is very fine!"

Elizabeth looked to see what sort of equipage could inspire her aunt's comment. Seeing the second carriage, she could not help but exclaim, "It is very fine indeed! Did you bring two carriages today Mr. Darcy? Were you perhaps prepared for my uncle and cousins to join us?"

"I did not. I believe I was thinking only of you." Darcy admitted, as his gaze remained fixed on Elizabeth's face.

"Is that not the Darcy crest on that carriage?" Elizabeth pointed as the other carriage passed by at an increased pace.

Mr. Darcy, who had paid little mind to the other vehicle previously, looked just in time to confirm what she said as truth. A look of puzzlement crossed his brow, although he said nothing aloud except to instruct his driver to proceed to their destination.

ooOoo

The gardens at Kensington Palace were all that Elizabeth had imagined them to be. Mr. Darcy had offered an arm to each of the ladies, but Mrs. Gardiner soon detached herself from it, claiming a desire to examine a shrub more closely and thereafter lagged behind sufficiently to afford the couple some privacy for conversation while still keeping them mostly in her view.

"Your aunt is very kind, to allow such distance." Darcy said warmly. "I am unaccustomed to supervision, and although I know I must accept the dictates of society to preserve your reputation, I admit that I do not like it."

"I would be very surprised if you did, and even more surprised if you were to confess it." Elizabeth said with a slim smile. "You have not impressed me as a man who likes to be told what he may and may not do. I have observed in you a distinct preference for doing exactly what you like. Is this not so?"

"It is."

"This tendency, I believe, shall make my role as your wife infinitely simpler than it otherwise would be."

"It will?" His sideward glance was unmet, as Elizabeth gazed into the treetops.

"But of course! While other marriages are destined to suffer from vexation and strife, I believe, or rather, _suspect_ that ours shall take a decidedly different turn."

"I am intrigued Madam. Pray continue."

"You may not yet know this of me, so I will simply tell you for your own information. I have made it a habit to study people. What I mean to say is that I rather enjoy sketching the character of persons I encounter. This I accomplish through careful observation of their behavior."

"Of this, I am already aware."

"Of course you are." Elizabeth smiled up at him as if the knowledge pleased her greatly. "In these observations, I have noted that in order to get their way, many wives suffer from a tendency to wheedle and beg, plead their case unceasingly, and if they remain unsuccessful, they will resort to trickery or even to outright deception." Upon hearing this, Darcy frowned.

"But I have greater hopes for us," Elizabeth continued brightly. "I have determined, in the sketching of _your _character, the thing which gratifies you the most is to render service—particularly in cases where it will please those you love. Am I not right?"

A strange expression crossed Darcy's features. "The foundation of what you say is correct."

"I have made you uncomfortable." Elizabeth patted his arm affectionately. "I will conclude by telling you that I shall do my very best to let you know what pleases me, and then we may both be happy!"

"And what of those things which _displease _you?"

"Oh, you shall be in no doubt of those, you have my promise." Elizabeth laughed gaily. "But you must not fear–I shall never use these things against you! That would be a capital offense! The only fair use of such information is for our mutual felicity." Her eyes danced mischievously–or so it seemed to Darcy.

He glanced over his shoulder, and finding that Aunt Gardiner's attention was focused on a statue, he grasped Elizabeth's hand and led her forward as he stepped back, effectively concealing them behind a row of hedges.

"Elizabeth," he whispered hoarsely as he cradled her face in his hands and looked into her eyes, "you cannot know what such talk does to me. Can I remain aloof when you speak so? I cannot! Tell me dearest, what would please you now?"

"I…" Elizabeth looked at him helplessly and breathed quietly, "I cannot say."

With a barely audible groan, he lowered his face and tentatively brushed his lips against hers. Her soft sigh was inviting, and the sweet upturn of her lips assured him of her pleasure in the moment, but the voice of Aunt Gardiner shattered the interlude. "Lizzy? Lizzy, where are you?"

"I am here Aunt." Elizabeth called out, straightening her bonnet, and with a meaningful glance at Darcy, she stepped back onto the pathway. "Look here, there is a robin's nest in this hedge and the bird is yonder." She pointed at a bird in a branch. "I wonder at its remaining here for the winter."

Aunt Gardiner raised her eyebrows at the blushing couple. "I suspect that it found the atmosphere here in the hedges to be warmer than the clime would suggest."

Mr. Darcy met her eye. "That very well may be Mrs. Gardiner. A warmer climate in the south may not compare to the relative privacy afforded by this hedge."

Elizabeth, who had turned to face her aunt during the conversation, gestured over her aunt's shoulder and inquired, "Who is that man? "

Darcy and Mrs. Gardiner turned just in time to see the back of a man disappear around a turn in the pathway.

"Why Lizzy? I am sure that he is as we are, enjoying the gardens."

"If that is so, why does he follow the same meandering route as we do? I am sure I have seen him behind us several times now Aunt. It is very odd. If he were acquainted with you, or with Mr. Darcy, would he not approach? Would he not extend the courtesy of a greeting?"

Mrs. Gardiner and Mr. Darcy exchanged a look between them, and both turned to examine the path they had traversed. There was no sign of the stranger now.

"What did he look like?" Mrs. Gardiner linked elbows with her niece, "Is there something about him that disturbs you?"

Elizabeth became agitated, walking quickly as she lowered her voice in confidence with her aunt. "I suppose that it could possibly be nothing more than my imagination. On further consideration, he simply cannot be as he appeared to be. It is too strange. He was too far off, that is the cause of it. That must be it."

"The cause of what? Of what do you speak?" Mr. Darcy's stern tone startled Elizabeth, and she hesitated to answer him.

"I am probably making too much of it. He is very likely, as my aunt said, just enjoying the grounds…"

"Miss Bennet, it is obvious that the man distressed you. Tell me at once! What is the cause of this alarm? What did he do? "

"Well, I do believe that he was following us, although he seemed to avoid appearing so, but that which disturbs me is this. The man... he looked…" Elizabeth stared down the path again before turning her face back to Darcy's. "He looked very much like you."

* * *

**A/N - **Aaaanddd we're back! I hope you're as excited as I am to get the sequel to ONE THREAD PULLED underway. There is much adventure in store. Not too much angst I hope, but perhaps a teeny bit. It can't all be fluff or you would not be satisfied in the least. So if you're an old friend, or a new one, take a minute to review and let me know what you think of Lizzy and Darcy in London! - AA


	2. Knowing Your Place

**Chapter Two — Knowing Your Place**

Elizabeth rolled onto her back, pulling the counterpane up to her neck for warmth against the chill of the morning air. As she stared at the blackness of the ceiling, the sky outside her window assured her that night had not yet fled, but her body knew that another London morning was upon her, and her mind was lit with recollections of what had gone between herself and Darcy the previous evening. The scene played in her wakeful mind like a scene on a stage.

Her pleasure in his appearance at breakfast and in their walk through the gardens had been disturbed when Darcy's mood darkened at the end of their stroll, after she had brought the man to his attention. The result of her observation was that the carriage ride back to her uncle's house had been awkward, with a silent, distracted Darcy as the source of her discomfort. His mind had seemed far away, and her attempts to engage him in conversation were resisted with coldness and monosyllabic responses reminiscent of their early encounters. '_I recognize these symptoms,_' Elizabeth recalled the sudden insight of her realization. '_He is ruminating on weighty things, shouldering the burdens he must endure. Has he always carried them alone?'_

She had deliberately caught his hesitant eye and offered him a gentle smile of understanding before she turned her conversation quietly to her aunt instead, leaving her betrothed to his solitary reverie until they arrived at her uncle's house.

Darcy disembarked from the carriage and handed first her Aunt Gardiner down, and then Elizabeth. As the winter days were short, it was dusk, though not yet dinnertime, and he gestured to acknowledge the fading light.

"I beg you to excuse me, I cannot stay," Darcy informed her matter-of-factly, looking away from her, down the street. "I fear that I shall not be able to call on the morrow, for there is urgent business I must attend to—it cannot be delayed."

"I understand." Elizabeth nodded, trying not to feel pained. "I would not wish you to neglect matters of urgency on my account."

"I will call on you the day after that," Darcy spoke distractedly, "and shall bring Georgiana around with me when I come."

"I look forward to it," Elizabeth said, sorrowing internally at his moroseness. She perceived that it was not due to anything she had said or done, but felt that it was owed to the appearance of the mysterious stranger earlier in the day. She looked into his eye, wishing to convey something of what was in her heart. '_It grieves me to see you like this!_' She longed to comfort him, to reassure him, but she did not want him to think she perceived any weakness when in truth, the potency of his strength touched her profoundly.

He moved to leave, and she impulsively set her gloved hand on his arm. He covered it with his own in an instant and caught her eye. His mien softened to remind her of the intensely tender regard he had shown on the night when he had proposed to her, and she instinctively knew the remedy for his troubled state.

"Mr. Darcy," she said gravely, with a light squeeze on his arm. "I have been thinking." She widened her eyes slightly before she looked askance, which served to catch his attention and elevate his concern. "Or perhaps I should say I have been wondering…"

He waited for her to continue, and when she did not, he signaled his driver to take the carriage for a short walk to keep the horses warm. He returned his attention to Elizabeth, his demeanor anxious. "What have you been wondering dearest?"

Elizabeth glanced at her aunt and uncle who stood watching them from the doorway, and with a nod of understanding between themselves, they entered the house leaving Elizabeth and Darcy alone in the wintery twilight of the street.

"Perhaps now is not the best time to ask. I am being nonsensical." Elizabeth shook her head with a half-laugh and looked first downward then demurely to her side. "Please Fitzwilliam; forgive me for mentioning it at such a time."

"You have mentioned nothing yet. What have you to ask?" Darcy caught her chin, turning and raising her face to look at him. Elizabeth shook her head. With his free hand, Darcy took up her dainty gloved one, and held it to his lips. His eyes peered solemnly over the top of her hand. "You cannot escape the question now Elizabeth. There is nothing you ever need fear from me."

"Well," she said hesitantly, even as her arching eyebrow and playful eyes gave her away, "I was thinking about your offer, and though I am convinced it will give _me_ little pleasure, I have nevertheless chosen to accept it, for the pleasure which it may afford _you_. It has been some time since you made it—I wonder if your offer still stands."

Darcy looked at her in bewildered confusion. "My offer?"

"Yes, I believe it was on the 26th of November when we were dancing together at Netherfield. Do you not recall that you offered to teach me to ride Fitzwilliam? You were very persuasive at the time, and I thought you to be sincere, for you pressed the matter with alacrity _then_, but if you do not wish to do it, I will understand." Elizabeth looked up and awaited his reply.

Darcy practically bellowed with laughter and relief and he spontaneously wrapped his arms around her in an enthusiastically improper embrace, which lasted but a second before he righted himself and looked into her face with great affection. "Oh my dear, dear Lizzy!" He hugged her soundly a second time, knocking her bonnet so that it dangled from its ribbons behind her. He again pulled back, this time caressing her arms and shoulders briskly as if to warm her, but his hands finally slid up her neck until he held her face within them and he bent down to look deeply into her shining eyes. "I _will _teach you to ride, and by spring when we go to Pemberley, you will be the accomplished horsewoman you were born to be!"

"I, ah, I have no suitable mount," Elizabeth murmured, suddenly quivering with the realization of what she had just done. "The side-saddle fills me with horror. Perhaps this was not the best idea after all." She began to pull away, but Darcy retained his hold as he spoke softly into her ear.

"Do you not recall, on the 26th of November—when we were dancing together at Netherfield—that when I offered to teach you to ride, I promised your safety?"

Elizabeth nodded, her head still cupped in his hands, and she whispered into the heated pocket of air created by his nearness, "Yes, I do."

"You shall always be safe with me my beloved. You shall learn to ride on a mount from my own stables—I know just the sweet mare that will suit you! This makes me very happy Elizabeth." He pressed his forehead against hers, and his broad smile was proof of what he said.

"You called me Lizzy," she muttered quietly, inwardly pleased at her success at restoring his spirits but overwhelmed at the emotions she felt surging within herself.

"Indeed I did, and I claim the right to do it again whenever I choose to, my darling Lizzy." He claimed her lips then also, with a gentle kiss that lasted until the carriage returned and he was away, and with him his warmth and powerful presence. Elizabeth felt the loss of his companionship keenly as she returned to the house.

Now, just hours later, Elizabeth smiled in the darkness at the remembrance of the way she had turned Darcy's brooding into delight. One phrase from that scene re-played in her mind however, for she had not previously conceived how important this ability was to him. 'Y_ou will be the accomplished horsewoman you were born to be_.' The statement struck her, and eventually carried her mind back to another conversation that had taken place at Netherfield, when she was caring for Jane. This conversation, with Caroline Bingley, had turned on the topic of female accomplishment. Caroline had inquired after the development of Elizabeth's talents. She had asked about her abilities in singing and playing an instrument. She then probed as to whether Elizabeth had studied painting and drawing and inquired on her instruction in foreign languages. Caroline had concluded with an insistence that Georgiana Darcy was the model by which accomplishment in any young woman was to be measured.

At the time, Elizabeth had taken Miss Bingley's conversation lightly, for she had no desire to obtain _that_ woman's good opinion, nor had she sought Mr. Darcy's. Now, in the darkness, Elizabeth realized that Caroline Bingley was nothing compared to the women she was certain to encounter from the first circles of society. These women would most certainly be more like Lady Catherine than like Caroline Bingley, and Mr. Darcy's good opinion meant everything to her now.

Mr. Darcy, she realized, had carefully seen to his sister's education, while her own parents had woefully neglected hers. If there was any subject she wished to study, her father had provided every opportunity for her to pursue it, but her education had not been ordered by any structure other than her own interests and inclinations. Now, she would be scrutinized by persons with far finer educations than even that of Miss Bingley's studies at a private seminary. Worse still, those same persons would carefully examine Mr. Darcy's choice of bride, and his reputation too would be judged by what they perceived in her. This gave her no satisfaction, for she began to see in herself the deficiencies that Caroline Bingley had, for reasons of jealousy and malice, exposed so cruelly.

'_I have no wealth or exalted connections, nor am a great beauty like Jane,' _Elizabeth stewed. '_Though I love them all dearly, I cannot delude myself into believing that my family will be acceptable to these people. I simply cannot go into this society with nothing but my charms to recommend me!'_ She determined in that hour that before she stood at the marriage altar beside Mr. Darcy, she would earn the respect of her new associates through her own merits and that somehow, she would deserve the title of 'accomplished.' The means whereby this was to be achieved, she did not know.

ooOoo

The Gardiner household was concluding their breakfast when a message arrived for Mrs. Gardiner. She read it first and handed it to Elizabeth.

"What can this mean?" Elizabeth wondered aloud with consternation upon reading it.

"Lizzy, surely you realize that your wardrobe must be seen to before the season commences," her aunt spoke reasonably. "Your father has arranged for Mr. Gardiner to handle the financial transactions – but do not fear, your uncle will be reimbursed every penny of the cost. It will be no hardship to us, I assure you."

"Aunt Gardiner, you cannot be serious. My father cannot afford to purchase an entirely new wardrobe for me. We will go to the shops and buy some new ribbons and some rosettes. I will re-trim my dresses and they will be made-over as good as new."

"Lizzy, that will not do. You are to be introduced into society, and not the middling society I have introduced you to when you have come here before, but into the top tiers of London nobility. You must have new clothing Elizabeth, and it must be of the highest quality if you are to prove acceptable in those circles."

"Upon my word, this is too much! I had thought perhaps a new ball-gown, maybe two for the season. The clothing on this list will cost a fortune! It will break my father!" Elizabeth pressed her face into her hands.

"By the information in this note, it appears that Mr. Darcy has arranged to have a modiste arrive here this morning for you to select the fabrics and patterns and measure you for your clothes. This will save you many trips to the shops for fittings, and with as many articles of clothing as you must acquire in such a short period, it will be very convenient. Mr. Darcy is indeed a very thoughtful man."

"Aunt Gardiner, how much will my father pay for this convenience?" Elizabeth cried, "I never heard of a dressmaker coming to a house in all my life. Mr. Darcy can have no understanding of what he has done! We must go to the shops ourselves if we go at all!"

Mrs. Gardiner looked at her niece for a full minute, a slight frown on her face. She began to speak and stopped several times, but she finally stood up and closed the door to the room so that they were alone with no chance of being overheard.

"Lizzy, I am not supposed to disclose this to you or to anyone, but I feel that you, of all people, should know. As I said, your father is to reimburse your uncle for the expenses, but Mr. Darcy has already paid your father a vast sum of money to cover the expense of your new wardrobe, and any other costs we incur with you as our guest. Your father will feel no pain should you have two or two-hundred new frocks. Your father is deeply ashamed that he cannot do this for you himself, but he would not have you humiliated in front of all of society for his own pride, and so he agreed to Mr. Darcy's terms. Your sisters will also be getting new gowns, though they do not know to whom they are indebted. Mr. Darcy would brook no opposition in this—he would not be gainsaid."

"Oh, Aunt Gardiner!" Elizabeth's hand covered her mouth in shock. "I had not thought… I cannot believe… oh, how can I allow Mr. Darcy to pay for these things when we are not married?"

"His arrangement is with your father, not with you my dear. I imagine it is part of the legal settlement they will have drawn up, and you can have nothing to say about it. I suppose you may refuse to wear the clothes, but I suspect that Mr. Darcy would be pained by such an act. If he wishes to see you dressed in fine clothing, does this disturb you?"

"He… he has never disparaged my clothing, or made me to feel in any way unacceptable for lack of a fashionable wardrobe. Only Miss Bingley did that. But is this his opinion of me?"

"I think you mistake Mr. Darcy. He has a very high opinion of you—that is very clear. One cannot observe him in your company for above two minutes without perceiving that he is deeply, might I even say, violently in love with you, and holds you in the highest esteem my dear."

"Then what is this about?" Elizabeth tapped the note.

"Stop this right now." Aunt Gardiner was stern. "You are the future Mrs. Darcy. You shall be the mistress over one of the grandest estates in all of England, and you would quibble over a few dresses? You must get past your foolish pride, Lizzy."

"I am who I am Aunt; I am Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn in Hertfordshire. It must be enough."

"There is no shame in where you have come from, indeed, the countryside of Hertfordshire has been a perfect place for you to grow into the delightful woman that you are, but that is all in the past now. You must turn your heart and mind to your future! Those people of _le_ _bon ton, _all they know of you now is your name and where you are from, but you are otherwise a mystery to them. What is the first impression you would choose to impart?"

"I don't know." Elizabeth appeared despondent. "I suppose I would wish them to think I was worthy of Mr. Darcy."

"And what will that _look_ like Elizabeth? Before you open your mouth and prove your intelligence and wit, you will make an impression on appearance alone. Tell me, what was your first impression of _Mr. Darcy_?"

Elizabeth laughed. "I thought he was an arrogant, hateful man. He was prideful and cross, and too far above the company to even speak to us, let alone dance with anyone at the Assembly."

"I can well believe it—your Mr. Darcy is a man of great reserve, but your impression of his manners is not what I meant. Think back to what you _saw_. Envision it. Try to remember."

"Well," she looked up to the ceiling, blinking. "He _was_ handsome. And very elegant." Elizabeth closed her eyes and spoke as if recounting a dream. "I recall noticing the superior fabric of his waistcoat and the fashionable cut of his clothing," Elizabeth giggled, "which made it far too easy to see that he possessed a _very_ fine figure beneath all those fine clothes."

Mrs. Gardiner's eyebrows raised and she smiled indulgently at her niece. "What else Lizzy?"

"His cravat was tied so beautifully that I secretly wished to reach out and play with it—perhaps give it a little tug and mess it up." Elizabeth smirked. "His bearing was ever so regal. He did stand up at the Assembly, but only with Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. I remember as I watched him that he seemed so effortless in the dance, although he did not look like he enjoyed it. If I am honest, I must confess that he was magnificent." Elizabeth opened her eyes and added with a sigh, "I was so busy finding fault with his rejection of our society that I did not allow myself to rightly see the striking man who was before me, or to perceive his true character. My first impression of him was tainted by prejudice. I see that now."

"Elizabeth my dear, you must learn from this experience. Your vivacious and lively person will certainly excite their opinions in your favor, but in order to triumph in their _first_ impression of you, you must allow yourself to be draped in some finery. It is the way of the world you are to be a part of, and you will either embrace it or be crushed by it."

Elizabeth nodded. "I wish more than anything to make Mr. Darcy proud of me. Happy and proud to take me on his arm, to stand up with me, to introduce me as his future wife."

Her aunt reached out and took both of her hands and gave them a reassuring squeeze. "He is already all of those things my dear, but it will certainly help if you make some concessions to fashion."

"Aunt, did you not say that the money Mr. Darcy gave to my father was for _any _expenses I incur?"

"Yes, that is my understanding of the arrangement."

"I have an idea that I trust you will approve of. I will willingly succumb to all the finery and bear it with equanimity, but in exchange, I desire you to assist me in acquisitions of a different nature."

"Acquisitions? Elizabeth, your uncle is in trade. With his connections, he is able to acquire many beautiful articles to embellish your wardrobe. What would you like my dear?"

"Tutors. They must be the best we can find! I must study with the masters! They must be willing to come earlier in the morning than is usual, and discreetly—I do not wish Mr. Darcy to know of my studies until such time as I have proven myself faithful to them. They must agree to reveal nothing of their association with me until after I am married to Mr. Darcy."

"Why Elizabeth? Has Mr. Darcy expressed any disappointment in this regard?" Aunt Gardiner's concern was evident.

"Oh no!" Elizabeth shook her head determinedly, "And he never shall!"

"I will help you." Her aunt nodded. "I do not believe it is strictly necessary, but knowing what I know of the first circles of society, your idea may prove wise. The improvement of your mind is a worthy cause, and will certainly keep you busy during the several months of waiting that your father has imposed on you. I will make inquiries this very afternoon."

ooOoo

"Sir Vincent Parker." Mr. Darcy greeted the Bow Street man with a familiar nod. "I appreciate you seeing me on so little notice. I am in need of your services."

"Yes," Sir Vincent smiled, "I thought you might be."

"Do you imply that you _expected_ me to call on you?" His eyes narrowed.

"Of course." Sir Vincent affirmed. "It is a most interesting coincidence that delivered your relation to my doorstep. What are the odds?"

"I do not have the pleasure of understanding you." Darcy shook his head. "I know nothing of a coincidence that would deliver any relation of mine to your doorstep—unless you refer to my Aunt Catharine's unfortunate visit to this office some weeks ago."

"How extraordinary! I had nearly forgotten that incident. Your aunt is a most disagreeable woman Mr. Darcy; I do not envy that connection in the slightest. No, this relation was a pleasant fellow, your cousin I believe."

"Colonel Fitzwilliam called on you?"

"No, it was not one of the sons of the esteemed Earl of Matlock. This man's name is Robert George Darcy."

"Sir Vincent, I assure you, I have no relation by that name." Darcy's face had darkened.

"Ah, yes. He told me you would say that. He was quite certain that you had not been aware of his existence."

"He is an imposter," was the emphatic reply. "You must arrest him at once. He undoubtedly has dubious intentions which must be opposed before he harms someone."

"He is an imposter who could be your twin Mr. Darcy. The resemblance is uncanny. Perhaps you should take a seat before I continue. He told me quite a story."

"I am sure he did." Darcy said with a frown, but he moved to the chair Sir Vincent had pointed to, and awkwardly sat. "Proceed."

"Very well." Sir Vincent shuffled around his desk and finding the papers he was looking for, he leaned back in his chair and began, referring to his notes as he spoke. "Are you aware that your father George Darcy was not an only son?"

"Of course I am aware of that. My father had an elder brother. My Uncle John died however, many, many years ago."

"How did he die?"

Darcy looked at the officer quizzically. "No one knows for certain. I understand that my uncle was very wild, and he had angered a number of powerful persons. He disappeared and was never seen again. I was just an infant and do not remember him, but it was assumed that he had been murdered, and after seven years passed with no word, he was declared dead. I was eight years old when we held a funeral for Uncle John. I do remember that."

Sir Vincent shifted in his chair and looked with some compassion at Darcy. "Your uncle did not die then, but sailed to the Americas to escape the trouble he was in."

"What?" Darcy leapt from the chair and began to pace in the small office. "America? I do not believe it! He never wrote—he was not ever heard from again! My grandfather was broken-hearted by his death—he never recovered. My father spoke of him only with great bitterness and regret. How could my uncle do such a thing?"

"According to Robert, your uncle deeply regretted his actions, but fearing for his life if he made his whereabouts known, he remained silent about his history until shortly before his death two years ago. It was then, as he was dying, that he revealed to his son Robert the details of his family in England, and begged him to return and make amends for his misdeeds. He most particularly asked Robert to locate his half-brother who remained in England."

"There is _another_ cousin as well?" Darcy cried. "How can this be?"

"Mr. Darcy, this is where the coincidence I mentioned earlier comes into play. As I said, your uncle died two years ago. Your cousin came to England immediately upon his death, leaving his properties in America in the hands of a steward. He travelled to Derbyshire where he began the search for his brother, with little information to go on. You see, this brother was born on the wrong side of the blanket. Your uncle, John Darcy, had meddled with the daughter of one of the tenant farmers, and it was discovered that she was with child mere days before John disappeared."

"How then, did my uncle know the child was a son?" Darcy challenged.

"He told Robert that he had made discreet inquiries and had eventually discovered what had become of the child. What he learned may surprise even you Mr. Darcy."

"I think there is nothing more you can say that would surprise me Sir Vincent. I am shocked. Shocked and grieved—I had no knowledge of any of this."

"Mr. Darcy, your cousin had been searching for his brother for well over a year, but the man was elusive, apparently a fugitive from threatened retributions from enemies he had made—in much the same way as his father had done a generation ago. Finally, Robert returned to Derbyshire where he went to the parsonage at Kympton in hopes of gaining more information. He was actually there _at the church_ when the body of the brother he sought, George Wickham, was delivered for burial. In fact, when Robert first came to me, he suspected that you had been responsible for Wickham's death, since you had paid the transport. Fortunately, I was able to absolve him of the belief that you had murdered his brother. "

The color had drained from Darcy's face and he shook his head in denial. "No! Wickham was the son of my father's steward."

"That is indeed what the world was led to believe Mr. Darcy, but in fact, George Wickham was your father's nephew, although your father could never acknowledge the relationship. This much I have been able to confirm as true. Your father arranged to have his steward adopt and raise his nephew so that his brother's child would be given every opportunity for success. Your uncle could not discover what became of Wickham's mother after the birth."

"What does this man, this American, Robert Darcy want from me?" Darcy's face was ashen.

"He is not after the inheritance, if that is your concern." Sir Vincent smiled with understanding. "Your cousin is the owner of large and prosperous property in Virginia and is not interested in any claim on his English Legacy."

"What then?" Darcy breathed out a deep sigh. "Why does he not just return to Virginia? He is a stranger to me."

"He wishes to know you." Sir Vincent shrugged. "He asked me to perform the introduction, but I told him that I would require your consent prior to doing so. He discovered where you live and followed you yesterday, watching you for a time. I know he did not approach you however, because I was following _him_. He returned to Bow Street afterward to insist—his observations only increased his desire to know you."

"You may be aware that I have recently become engaged. My urgent priority at present is to successfully introduce my betrothed into London society. I can ill afford to suddenly produce a heretofore unknown relation from America, for if what you have told me is true, there will be scandal associated with these revelations. Tell him I am sorry, but I must decline his request. It simply will not do."

"I believe you have no choice Mr. Darcy. You must remember that America is currently at war with England. He will be unable to gain passage back to Virginia until the conflict is resolved. He cannot leave, and his resemblance to you is so marked that denial of the connection will raise speculation."

Darcy sighed. "I will meet him privately. I can promise no more."

* * *

**A/N: **I want to thank all of you who reviewed the last chapter for the wonderful, warm welcome back I received after posting Chapter One. And please, if you have a minute, let me know what you think of Chapter Two! Are we having fun yet? - AA


	3. Appearances Must Be Maintained

**A/N** – Many thanks to my wonderful Beta team: Kris, Steph, Gayle and Betty.

* * *

**Chapter Three – Appearances Must Be Maintained**

"Darcy!" Lord Matlock called out with barely suppressed hilarity when his nephew was announced. "We had quite despaired over ever seeing you again." His eyebrows rose with curiosity at the sober appearance of his nephew, but he continued in high spirits. "My sister informs me that you have overthrown everything and everyone, rejected your solemn duty to your family, and made us all the contempt of the world. Have I left anything out, Catherine?"

Darcy bowed politely. "Lord Matlock, Aunt Eleanor, Aunt Catherine. I am very glad to see you. I hope your Christmas was happy and that you are in good health."

"I am in the very best of health, Nephew." Lady Matlock smiled benignly and raised a cup of tea to her lips, sipped briefly, set it down and enquired, "How is dear Georgiana?"

"She is well, I thank you." Darcy nodded warmly at his aunt before turning back to face his uncle. "It would seem from your greeting, Uncle Edward, that Aunt Catherine once again has made an occupation of unwelcome and far too eager interest in my concerns." He glanced at her impatiently. "My situation is well in hand, and I shall be pleased to accept your congratulations. My betrothal to Miss Elizabeth Bennet was announced in the _Morning Post_, the _Gazette_ and _The Times_ nearly two weeks ago, so my engagement cannot be news to you. I am certain all of London society is now aware."

"Yes." Matlock nodded with a frown. "Even the subscribers in the farthest reaches of England have heard it by now. I was astonished myself to learn of such a momentous development in my own family from none other than the _Morning Post_. It has been a most distressing fortnight. You will bring Miss Bennet here in two days' time, on New Year's Eve, for an introduction. We shall determine for ourselves whether Catherine has exaggerated the unsuitability of the match."

"Miss Bennet is a gracious woman of true gentility. You shall not find her wanting," Darcy said stiffly. "My making an offer of marriage to her does not warrant rumors of _overthrow, _regardless of my aunt's disapproval of my choice."

"What of Anne?" Lady Catherine cried. "You have overthrown _her_! She has anticipated your offer all these years, now to be wholly undone by an impudent country upstart who is not even fit to walk the halls of Pemberley, let alone be the mistress!"

"_What of Anne_?" Darcy parroted the words in disbelief. "Anne never desired an offer from me! No one in this room can be foolish enough to believe that Anne and I were _ever_ engaged."

"But you were! You are!" Lady Catherine gripped the armrests of her chair until her knuckles turned white. "My daughter _must_ be Mrs. Darcy. She _must_ be mistress of Pemberley! You _must_ see your duty clearly, Fitzwilliam. Your path has been set before you from the cradle; you cannot abandon it now! Miss Bennet has gained some power over you, that is apparent for anyone to see; but how, I ask, can you be so selfish to Anne?"

"Lord Matlock," Darcy set his jaw as he sharply turned away from his aunt, "I have come to speak upon an important matter of great urgency. As much as I wish to address Aunt Catherine's anxieties, they are untimely. Other matters take precedence, and I beg you to grant me a private audience."

"Of course," the earl gestured toward the door. "Let us retreat to my study. No one will interrupt us there. Excuse us, ladies; we must leave you to your tea."

As they quit the room, Darcy silently vowed reparations to his Aunt Eleanor for leaving her to suffer Lady Catherine's objections alone, which began again in earnest before the men had even passed through the door.

Once they were in Matlock's study, with the door firmly secured behind them, his uncle offered a glass of port.

"No, thank you—I must keep a clear head. I did not exaggerate the gravity of my situation, Uncle. Something of a most serious and unexpected nature has occurred." Darcy waved away the port and began to pace with agitation.

Matlock watched him silently at first, but finally ventured, "Do you intend tell me what this matter of import is, or shall I guess?"

Darcy stopped pacing and turned abruptly. "Did you know my father's brother, John Darcy?"

The earl cocked his head thoughtfully. "Now _that _is a name I have not heard in many a year. Yes, I knew John Darcy—quite well."

"What became of him?"

Matlock regarded his nephew thoughtfully, hesitating before he answered, "Presumed dead, though I never believed it. He disappeared quite completely. It was a serious blow to all of us as well, but more so to Catherine. She felt his loss dearly."

"Aunt Catherine?" Darcy started and blinked rapidly several times.

Matlock looked grim. "Yes."

"I do not understand." Darcy walked to the window and, clasping his hands behind his back, composed himself before he probed further. "How could it have affected her?"

The earl's voice dropped low, and he glanced at the door before proceeding. "Catherine was engaged to him. Not officially, but they had an understanding."

Darcy turned and stared at his uncle as though he comprehended nothing.

"I am certain you are aware that Catherine was but a year older than Anne. When Cate—we used to call her that, you know—came out in society, she had so many suitors that she never wanted for a partner. She insisted Anne must come out the next year—even though Cate had not yet secured a husband. Catherine was determined that it would be far more enjoyable if they would attend balls and soirees together. As predicted, the Fitzwilliam sisters were indeed a sensation." Lord Matlock's expression had become dreamlike as he continued. "They were both very beautiful, and as the daughters of an earl, each with a sizeable dowry, they did not want for admirers. Anne met George Darcy in her very first season, and he was smitten, as was she."

Darcy looked at his uncle sharply, his eyes narrowed, his face questioning. "My father never said it was a love match."

"Times were different then; the ladies were not all reading romance novels, and a love match was a happy coincidence if it happened at all. No one _aspired_ to it. Your father however, would not be gainsaid, despite heavy opposition from my family. Your father's prospects were not deemed worthy of my sister—he was but a second son. George was destined for the church, and his father had promised him the living at Kympton when it fell vacant. While the living there is respectable, it was certainly far beneath the expectations for the daughter of an earl."

"My father was to take the living at Kympton?" Darcy began to pace again with increased agitation.

"Your father seemed content with his choice of the church, yet continued to press my father for consent to court Anne." Matlock paused. "It was inevitable, I suppose, as part of her crusade to persuade our father, that Anne would use Catherine to further the acquaintance with the Darcys." Matlock sighed. "As you know, Pemberley is not far from our family estate in Derbyshire. The Darcys invited us to a picnic early in the summer, and from the day she laid eyes on the house and beautiful grounds, Catherine vowed that she would marry the elder brother, John Darcy, and become the mistress of that great estate."

"Why have I never heard this before?" Darcy demanded.

"Your father was a man of few words. If he did not tell you, I am not surprised," Matlock said. "But if you wish to know more of it, I will tell you, which is all I can do."

Darcy returned to the window, his face concealed. "Please continue."

"Cate persuaded my father that refusing consent to the younger brother damaged her prospects with the elder. You know how persuasive Catherine can be, and Anne desired it as well; so, in the end, my father relented and, against his better judgment, consented not just to courtship, but to marriage—as soon as George had the living."

"The living never fell to him. Of _that _I am certain," Darcy objected.

"True. Although your father was not the eldest, he was without a doubt the most faithful son—John would often disappear for weeks or even months at a time, traveling to whatever city called to him whilst running up debts, gambling and worse. Your grandfather desperately needed assistance running the estate, so he opened rooms in the family wing at Pemberley to George and Anne in exchange for their aid, with a promise that they were welcome to reside there until George took his place in the church. My father owned that residence at Pemberley was a satisfactory situation for Anne. The banns were read; your parents were married and, ere long, she was with child, which of course, was you."

"I _was_ born at Pemberley. She refused to go to town for her confinement. My mother spoke of it to me many times, telling of it as a bedtime story." Darcy's voice had softened at the memory.

Matlock nodded, "Your uncle, John Darcy, returned to Pemberley only once after you were born. On his previous visit, he told Catherine that he would arrive with all obstacles to their union resolved. He swore that when that time came, he would offer for her, _which he did_. John proposed to Catherine on the very day of his return, despite clearly being fearful of some unspoken danger that he would not confide to anyone. However, Cate had discovered in his absence that John had fathered a child, yet unborn. In her anger, she arrogantly refused him, expecting him to come to her again and plead for her forgiveness and beg to marry her. She informed me later that she fully intended to accept his offer once he had suffered for his indiscretion—that she had merely wished to keep him in suspense while he repented for what he had done." Matlock sighed, folding his arms as he shook his head at the memory. "She has always had an unfortunate penchant for groveling. John Darcy stayed but two days in Derbyshire and was never seen again."

"What of the child he had sired?" Darcy pressed.

"I do not know." Matlock shook his head and shrugged. "The child was of no consequence."

Darcy's face colored. "The result of these events appears to be that my father stayed on to manage Pemberley with my grandfather. There is one thing I do not understand, however. If my father was to manage the estate, why engage a steward? That seems an extravagance."

"Come, Darcy," Matlock said with a knowing smile. "Your father was long of the belief that his brother would return and claim his place as Master of Pemberley. He wished everything to be well in order to release it to him with as little disruption as possible. Your grandfather changed his will before he died, leaving no provision for John or any issue he may have had, but by then, Mr. Wickham had been in service to the Darcys for many years and as stewards go, none were finer."

"How did Mr. Wickham come to be steward?

"I do not recall the particulars, but you were still very small when Mr. Wickham came to Pemberley with his wife and infant son. Before that, I believe Mr. Wickham was an attorney by profession, but he gave up everything to be of use to the Darcys. By all accounts, he devoted every moment to the care of the Pemberley property and was richly rewarded for his devotion. Your grandfather even commissioned a new house to be built for Wickham's family. He was highly esteemed by your father as well—a most intimate, confidential friend. He seemed, over time, to fill the void in your father's heart left by the loss of his elder brother, John."

"Yes, my father was indeed a friend to old Mr. Wickham," Darcy muttered resentfully, "and to his son."

"You have still not told me your purpose here today, Nephew. I believe you said something of import has occurred," Lord Matlock spoke softly, but forcefully. "What does John Darcy have to do with the event that delivered you to my door?"

Darcy began to pace again, his agitation increasing, and when he turned to speak, his face was drained of all color. "John Darcy did _not_ die those many years ago."

"Indeed?" Matlock asked coolly. "Lady Catherine would surely enjoy an audience with him! I would be most obliged if you would inform me of his whereabouts at once, and we shall call on him in a day or two, when I am no longer inclined to cause him bodily harm."

Darcy rolled his eyes, his color returning. "He is _dead now_. Dead and buried in Virginia, these past two years."

"Well, that explains everything." Matlock re-filled his glass of port. "Dead in America... how inconvenient for Catherine—I anticipate that she will be most seriously displeased with him for it." He chuckled. "She shall be quite put out."

Darcy looked levelly at his uncle. "His death gives me neither pleasure nor grief. I never knew my uncle John. The event of his death, however, has put certain things in motion, and I am come to seek your counsel, my lord."

Matlock nodded seriously. "Tell me Darcy. Tell me everything you know, and then you must tell me something of Miss Bennet, both to satisfy my own curiosity and to enable me to face the inquisition I shall endure at the hands of my sister."

ooOoo

"Miss Bennet, Mr. Darcy's instructions were quite specific. He advised me that your six morning dresses may be of any colors or styles that please you. The seven walking dresses may likewise be as diverse as the rainbow provided they are to your liking and in keeping with some degree of fashion. Of your evening gowns, however, he gave me direction that I dare not contradict." The modiste picked up a stack of fabric swatches and fanned them out between them on the settee to illustrate. "The first must be red, the color of the rubies. The second like sapphires of the deepest blue…"

"I see, Mrs. Higgs, where this is going. Emeralds and amethysts next! Upon my word, Mr. Darcy would bedeck me in the palette of the crown!" Elizabeth frowned at the modiste unhappily. "Should not my taste be accounted for? Are not maids like myself usually clothed in maidenly colors for their first season in town? White and cream tones are truly my preference. Did he give you a reason for demanding such richly colored gowns? I am to wear them after all, not he."

Mrs. Higgs colored. "Yes, Miss Bennet, he _did_ give me his reason."

"Pray, enlighten me." Elizabeth arched a brow at the seamstress, who did not yet know her patron well enough to recognize the challenge in it.

"Mr. Darcy informed me that you had not previously partaken in the delights of the season. This is true?" Mrs. Higgs's nearly perfect English betrayed her heritage with the merest hint of a French accent.

"It is," Elizabeth acknowledged.

"Therein lies his dilemma. You are wholly unknown in his circles—your presence anywhere in London shall excite interest and speculation. You must certainly be aware of the general curiosity that is aroused by even the mention of your name. Why, no one has even heard of you until now; thus, no one has any idea of what to expect. Mr. Darcy would use this opportunity to quietly fit you for the position to which you ascend."

"Do you imply that Mr. Darcy would dress me in red because of my anonymity?"

"Not at all!" Mrs. Higgs quickly denied. "He simply does not wish your appearance to be as one _just_ coming out into society. The pale colors of a young lady's debut would signal the attention of the other single men and mark you for their particular notice. You are certainly not to appear as an entrant of the marriage mart."

"The gossips will have excluded me from those ranks long before any introduction," Elizabeth reasoned. "Surely there is no need to prove it by wearing _red_."

"Proof is exactly what is needed, my dear. The marriage mart is very much like a race of thoroughbred fillies where the mothers are the jockeys and the eligible bachelor is the prize. You have quite unexpectedly appeared at the finish line already declared the winner. Society cannot contest the outcome, but they will most certainly scrutinize _you_, and your situation, which has already been deemed suspect." Mrs. Higgs squinted slightly, as if to scrutinize Elizabeth more closely herself.

"I fear they shall find very little to entertain," Elizabeth shrugged and turned her attention to the fabric swatches Mrs. Higgs had placed between them.

"Very little is all they shall need, considering that you would normally be beneath their notice. You are certainly not a daughter of the upper ten thousand, so there is no distinguished family name to buffer their attitudes, and your lack of dowry or influential connections is already being whispered of in the drawing rooms, but such has been seen before, and though they mightily disprove of your inferior birth, it is not exactly shocking. I shall tell you what has captured their curiosity. Well, there are two things really. The first is that the inscrutable and elusive Mr. Darcy has been secured by anyone at all, and the second, of course, is the duration of your engagement! You must realize that six months is unprecedented, most irregular. It has given rise to wild rumors and speculation on the reasons for the delay."

"Oh dear me!" Elizabeth exclaimed with alarm. "This will not do!"

Mrs. Higgs chuckled. "Your engagement has piqued the interest of many more persons than you may imagine. My clientele have spoken of little else since it was announced in the papers. Many of them know that Miss Darcy is among my patrons and the increase of traffic in my shop has been substantial, for they do not know where you live and would certainly not think to look at Gracechurch Street. So they have come in droves, hoping to catch a glimpse of you in my establishment. Why, the little chocolate shop across the street has never seen such thriving business in the height of winter! Mr. Darcy showed some greatness of thought in arranging for me to come to you, I think. Your introduction into the elite circles must be orchestrated with great care, and Mr. Darcy's instructions for your wardrobe have been thoroughly considered. The colors he chose for your evening gowns will compare to those of the matrons, _not_ their daughters. The competition is over, and your mode of dress shall signal it to be so."

Elizabeth became contemplative. "I feel rather foolish. I had no conception of any of this, but I begin to see that Mr. Darcy was well aware of the implications even though I was not."

"Rest assured, Miss Bennet; he sees your worth and wishes his peers to do the same. He would incite the admiration of your person and character among the elite, which will compel the rest of society to accept you as his chosen bride," Mrs. Higgs spoke sincerely.

"Let me correctly understand you," Elizabeth said with sparkling eyes. "Mr. Darcy wishes the single men to know he has _secured_ me though our marriage is yet six months away. The matrons are to believe that I am their equal even though they have never heard of me. Their daughters must allow that I have already won the sweepstakes though they did not ever see me at the gate, and half a year remains before I am awarded the prize. Do you not think that Mr. Darcy grants fashion greater powers than he ought?"

"Do not misunderstand me." Mrs. Higgs smiled warmly. "What you are wearing shall not make you impervious to the darts, but it _will_ make them think twice before they launch them."

"A shield when I need armor!" Elizabeth laughed. "Very well. I shall acquiesce to Mr. Darcy's schemes, but I do have one demand of my own." Elizabeth laughed again. "White, and cream, Mrs. Higgs, are the color of _pearls_. If I am to wear frocks that complement the jewels you have hinted he shall expect me to wear, I insist on at least _one_ that matches my pearls."

ooOoo

"Lizzy, I have a surprise for you." Aunt Gardiner had waited for the removal of the fabrics, trimmings, lace and fashion plates along with Mrs. Higgs and her assistants from the drawing room before she quietly entered. Elizabeth looked at her with suspicion.

"_Please_ tell me that it is a letter from Jane or from Longbourn."

"Well, yes, you _do_ have several letters today," Aunt Gardiner handed them to Elizabeth. "But that is not the surprise of which I speak."

"You are aware, of course, that I am not entirely fond of surprises?"

"I have known you for many years now, Lizzy. I did not expect you to be pleased, and I fear you may be even less so when you discover it. Your world is changing so very fast." Her empathetic tone was enough to alarm Elizabeth.

"Do not tease me with further suspense, Aunt Gardiner. Tell me at once!"

"Elizabeth, it is no imposition," she said, gently touching her nieces arm.

"What is no imposition?" Elizabeth maneuvered to catch her aunt's eye.

"We had an empty room upstairs in the maid's quarters." Aunt Gardiner faced her niece straight on, and spoke with authority.

"I do not have the pleasure of understanding you. Speak plainly, I beg you." Elizabeth arched a brow and frowned.

"She seemed an excellent choice. I could have recommended no better," Aunt Gardiner replied.

"Upon my word! I can bear this no longer. Of what, or whom, are we speaking?" Elizabeth cried, folding her arms in exasperation.

"We are speaking of a lady's maid for you, of course."

"That is ridiculous! I do not need my own lady's maid, Aunt Gardiner! I am here but a few months and I am happy to receive what little assistance I require in the morning from your maid, once she has done with you. I shared a single lady's maid with four sisters and my mother, and we did well enough."

"Her name is Emilie, and she is French but speaks excellent English. Her recommendations are impressive. I do not know how Mr. Darcy was able to procure such a servant with so little notice. She is waiting for you in your room."

"The maid—she was Mr. Darcy's doing?" Elizabeth did not wait for an answer as her arms now flung upward in aggravation. "It was insufferably presumptuous of him to secure a maid for me, was it not? He did not even discuss it with me, Aunt! He did not inquire regarding my preferences or indeed, if I even wished to have a maid!" Elizabeth's cheeks puffed full of air and she blew a long breath out through puckered lips as she paced a short line. "Did he talk with you or my uncle about a room for her, or was it just a lucky coincidence that one was available?"

"Calm yourself, my niece." Aunt Gardiner smiled patiently. "If you would but look at the letters I handed you, you will see that there is also one from Mr. Darcy which was handed to me by the coachman of the carriage that brought Emilie. Perhaps you should read it."

"Oh." Elizabeth thumbed through the stack impatiently and discovered the one addressed to her in Mr. Darcy's bold hand. "I shall read it. I do hope that Emilie has not unpacked her belongings yet, for her stay here ends the moment I can claim to have read the letter."

_Dearest Elizabeth,_

_I hope this finds you well. I desire to determine your state for myself, but my business is taking longer than I had expected, and this matter could not wait. I realize it is unexpected, and can only ask that you consider all the information I provide. When the facts are laid before you, please, will you not reflect on them with the same rational mind that persuaded you to accept me in spite of your reservations?_

_I arrived today to the home of my uncle, the Earl of Matlock, on urgent business. My aunt and uncle are most anxious to meet you, and I have accepted their invitation, which was extended to both of us, to dine with them on New Year's Eve. My aunt also queried as to whether you had yet acquired the services of an abigail. She shared with me the situation of Emilie who is an experienced French maid who had been in the service of a countess until last week, when a sudden illness took the life of the countess unexpectedly, leaving Emilie with no alternative but to seek service in another household. Aunt Eleanor, knowing of her abilities, immediately asked about Emilie's circumstances and learned that she had been dismissed without ceremony and was at that moment relying on the kindness of distant relations to provide shelter. _

_My aunt saw a possible means to a resolution of your present need. I know that you are not yet accustomed to having one such as this for your exclusive use, but the time is not far distant that your place in society will require it; indeed, the demands of the upcoming season will be eased with the services of a well-qualified lady's maid. If Emilie proves reliable and pleases you, we will make the position permanent, but for now, I ask you to allow me to provide employment to her on a trial basis as your abigail, as a favor to my aunt._

_I will call on you tomorrow and you may give me your decision at that time._

_Your faithful servant,_

_FD_

"Oh, Aunt, I am the most nonsensical woman!" Elizabeth laughed through her tears. "And Mr. Darcy is the dearest, kindest man! How are we ever to get on if I take umbrage at everything he does, even when he does not deserve my ire?"

"You are no longer angry?"

"Read it, and tell me how I could remain so." Elizabeth handed her aunt the letter. "I must stop thinking the worst of him, it is ungenerous of me and impolitic too, when I consider how many similar episodes our relationship could withstand. How could I have misjudged him so quickly, so easily?"

Aunt Gardiner read the letter and handed it back to Elizabeth. "It is evident that he anticipated your objections. Many men of his station would not have taken the trouble to provide an explanation—it is extraordinary that he did so. In truth, your good fortune in securing a well-trained abigail is most providential."

"Perhaps that is so, but I do not _need_ one…"

"Lizzy, consider that since your mother is not in town, I shall be obliged to accompany you nearly everywhere you go. This is a duty I am delighted to fulfill; however, I am at times a selfish being, and I do believe I should prefer to have my own lady's maid attend _my _preparations for these affairs. Do not forget that you are accustomed to having your sisters to help you, and they are not here. Mr. Darcy performed a thoughtful favor indeed by procuring an abigail for you. His kindness toward the maid was secondary to his kindness toward _you_. How could you not see this?"

"Aunt Gardiner, I am amazed at myself. You have exposed something very ridiculous in me! I do believe that when it comes to Mr. Darcy, my sight is inside-out and upside-down. I react so violently to every decree he makes! It is a wretched beginning, is it not?"

"Oh no, my dear, not a wretched beginning at all. It is a very promising beginning!"

"How can you say so? I fear that I shall drive him away before two weeks have passed!"

"I say so, because I was much the same with your uncle in the days prior to our marriage. I was terribly contrary and difficult, because I did not understand my feelings. I would spare you that trial if you will allow me."

"Please do! I cannot imagine you being contrary and difficult aunt, I would dearly love to hear what could turn you into such a creature."

Aunt Gardiner placed her hand on Elizabeth's arm. "The feelings that were stirring in my breast were new and so dreadfully potent that I thought I might explode. I did not understand this agitation, nor did I feel free to confess it—I do not believe I could have explained it had I tried. I thought I might burst for love!" She patted Elizabeth's arm consolingly and continued.

"I diverted these secret passions in ways that seem inexplicable now. I most certainly could not entertain exploring them directly. To act on them naturally would have truly been wanton, so in frustration, I behaved in a willful and headstrong manner to nearly every small and petty thing with every person in my midst, but most particularly with my intended. It was dreadfully unladylike. Poor Edward was _so_ confused," Aunt Gardiner laughed softly at the memory, "but our engagement was short, and so was over before disaster struck. I am fortunate in that at least."

"Yet you consider such behavior _promising_?"

"Oh yes. At Longbourn, you have been a girl, your father's daughter. Under Mr. Darcy's roof, you shall be a woman, the wife of a great man. In my house, you shall transform from that delightful girl who captured Mr. Darcy's heart into the fascinating woman who shall hold it. You must look forward to that day and allow that future life to inform your actions rather than always letting your feelings run away with you. Your ability to discern will improve, and the tender feelings nurtured by a woman will increase your understanding. I have great faith in you, my dear."

"I begin to understand, Aunt. In the meantime, I believe I shall continue to _tease_ him, for that is a true release for this commotion I feel in my heart when I am with him, and he does not seem to mind it."

Mrs. Gardiner laughed. "I would not dare suggest that you cease teasing him! I would ask that you not tease him _much _in front of the children. They certainly don't understand such things—they will think you are being mean to him, and if he teases back, there is no telling what they will say." She embraced her niece fondly, and whispered in her ear. "It is time to go upstairs and meet your maid."

Elizabeth giggled. "Yes, I suppose I must. In one thing I am sure I can trust; appearances must be maintained, and with a French maid, my appearance will undoubtedly be substantially altered. Since it is all Mr. Darcy's doing, I shall not suffer any complaints from him about it!"

"Men," said Mrs. Gardiner meaningfully, "never complain if you look lovely, as long as you don't make them late."

ooOoo

Robert Darcy was ushered into Sir Vincent's office, where he sat, bolt upright, nervously holding his hat on his lap. "Well, Sir Vincent, what is the verdict? Am I to meet my relations?"

Sir Vincent steepled his fingers and paused. "You have brought the letter from the rector at Kympton?" Robert produced the letter from a pocket and laid it on Sir Vincent's desk. "What of the letter from your father?" This too was set on the desk, next to the first. "Have you the letter from William Wickham?" This question inspired a moment's pause, but the letter was retrieved and surrendered also, completing the set. Sir Vincent picked them up and perused them each individually. "How did you come to know Mr. Wickham, the great spymaster… of all people in England?"

"He was my father's old friend. They went to school together, first at Harrow School, and then at Christ Church, Oxford."

"That would have been many years ago."

"They maintained a correspondence."

"Yes, that appears to be the case." Sir Vincent's brow furrowed. "He is a fortunate ally to have. As an American on British soil during a military conflict, your presence in England is highly suspect. I was amazed to discover the validity of your claim that Mr. Wickham has obtained immunity for you from his friends in Parliament."

"I have those papers as well," Mr. Darcy said as he added an official-looking document to the desk. "I did tell you I could prove it. Thank you for not arresting me when we first met."

"You are welcome for that, but I confess that it was largely a matter of self-preservation. I would not wish to cross the esteemed Mr. Wickham; even in retirement he could make my life very difficult were he to become displeased."

"You have not answered my question, sir. Am I to meet my relations?" Darcy asked impatiently.

Sir Vincent passed the letters and papers back to Mr. Darcy. "Yes, everything is in order, and I spoke with your cousin yesterday. He has agreed to meet you, but that is _all_. He insisted that the introduction remain concealed from the world and asks that you come to his residence at eight-o'clock in the morning on the morrow. He is of the belief that the fashionable world will still be abed or confined to their homes at that hour and your arrival will be undetected. Is this acceptable to you?"

"It is, sir." Robert Darcy nodded.

"Capital! I shall send word to Mr. Darcy to expect you, and I shall meet you there." Sir Vincent rose and extended his hand. "I must say, this is one encounter I would not want to miss!"

* * *

**A/N - **My apologies dear readers, for the minor delay in getting this chapter posted. I do hope that you will take a moment to share your impressions in a review before you leave the page. It will only take a moment-far less time than it took me to write the chapter, I assure you. Reviews, I confess, spur me on and feed my muse. Besides, I know you want to tell me what you think about Lady Catherine nearly having been the mistress of Pemberley!


	4. Introductions

Thank you to the best betas I know! Gayle, Betty, Kris and Steph - you're the best!

**Chapter Four - Introductions**

The clock in the drawing room chimed eight times as the visitor's carriage rolled to a stop. Inside the house, a hand parted the curtains, and dark eyes watched through the rippled glass in nervous anticipation as the man disembarked. The view from the window above the entry revealed little of his appearance; a top hat obscured his face, and dim light on a foggy morn concealed the rest. A rap on the door echoed below, and the sound of muffled voices was followed by footsteps in the hall as the caller was escorted into the interior of the house.

Aunt Gardiner was waiting for Elizabeth in the music room where, together, they greeted Mr. Lewin, the first of the masters engaged to instruct her. His area of expertise was the pianoforte.

Elizabeth was struck from the first by his geniality and quickly found that, although he was a demanding taskmaster, his criticisms were kindly made. Her fingering, he declared to be her most troublesome liability and focused nearly all of his attention on improving her technique. At the end of the hour, he left her not with a sonata or concerto to work on, but with several sheets of scales instead. He departed with the strict admonition to practice for at least an hour every day for the next three days, at which time he would return and would bring with him the musical studies of _Johann Baptist Cramer_ for her next lesson.

ooOoo

Insomnia had plagued Mr. Darcy throughout the night, and he arose, unrefreshed, at six a.m. His mood was foul by the time the hands on the clock pointed to eight. He could not hear the arrival of the carriages from his study, but he knew from the sudden flurry of the footmen and butler in the hallway that they had. He considered bracing himself with a drink, but decided against it—a clear head was the more important thing. He had seated himself behind his massive desk; somehow, the barrier it created made him feel less vulnerable.

He heard Sir Vincent's unmistakable laugh in his entry hall and resented it. He felt imposed upon, skeptical, and in a decidedly bad temper by the time the party had reached the door of his study. Darcy stood as they were announced, realizing that civility demanded that much of him. He greeted Sir Vincent with a stiff bow and turned to meet his cousin.

He barely heard the introduction Sir Vincent offered. It was an unnecessary formality, though—they all well knew each other's names, and there was no mistaking the face. It was as familiar to him as the one he saw in his own mirror, or very nearly so. The cut of the hair was different, as was the shape of the sideburns, but all else, save the color of his eyes, seemed very much the same.

Darcy bowed with cold civility from where he stood. Robert Darcy did the same, although his demeanor was far from cold. His excitement at the meeting was evident, and he smiled with friendliness at his English relation. "Mr. Darcy! What a pleasure it is to finally meet you." He extended his hand and, when it was not met, dropped it awkwardly. "I imagine that you have questions you would wish me to address."

"Yes," Darcy nodded curtly, "a great many, in fact."

"By all means, ask whatever you will to ascertain what you want to know," Robert said, slightly put off by Darcy's cold manner, "but let us first set aside any idea you may harbor that I am your enemy, for I assure you I am not. Whether or not I will be your friend remains to be seen. That we are truly cousins, I trust has been sufficiently established."

Darcy gestured to the two gentlemen that they should be seated and set the example by sitting himself. "Sufficiently for now, yes." His eyes narrowed, "Where are you staying?"

"There's a fine start —let's get right to the answers then! I am a guest at the home of The Right Honourable Charles Abbot, although he is not presently in residence there," Robert replied. "Would you like the address?"

Darcy's brows shot upward, and he glanced incredulously at Sir Vincent, who nodded confirmation.

"You are an American. How is it possible that you are even _acquainted_ with the Speaker of the House of Commons?" Darcy challenged. "You can have no conceivable ties to him."

"I confess that I am a little surprised myself. The connection is due mostly to my father, rest his soul. It is true that when I arrived in England, I could claim no friendships of my own, but I did have the name of one of my father's friends, a Mr. William Wickham. My father had provided a letter of introduction to him, so I sought him out, in Hampshire. Sir Vincent knows all the particulars of these matters."

"It is true, Darcy," Sir Vincent added. "Your uncle maintained his acquaintance with William Wickham all those years, via letters. His motive to do so shall be clear soon enough."

"It is Mr. Wickham who arranged for me to lodge at Speaker Abbot's house in Mayfair, while the gentleman himself is obliged to retain residence at the Parliamentary estate. They are great friends, you see," Robert said earnestly. "However, where I am staying is of no consequence to me, for it is not my home. Of far greater import to me is to establish my acquaintance with you and your sister while I am in London. You are the only relations I have left in this world."

"I understand that you believe yourself a brother to George Wickham," Darcy answered coolly.

"If the information from my father is correct, and I believe it to be so, then yes, he was my brother," Robert replied.

"What exactly is this information? It is improbable that this could be true. What proof have you?"

Robert shrugged. "I will tell you what my father disclosed to me of it, and you may be the judge." He paused to compose his thoughts. "When my father left England, he did so with the knowledge that an indiscretion with the daughter of a tenant had taken hold. He wished to make some provision for the child, though unable to do so himself in his volatile circumstances. Acting under an urgent need to disappear beyond the reach of enemies who had sworn to kill him, he sent word of the dilemma to his old school friend, Mr. Wickham, and trusted in that man's judgment and discretion to act on his behalf. It was five years before my father dared contact Wickham again, and three more before he heard back from him. Only then did my father learn what had become of his son."

"His concern for his child is unimpressive—he truly allowed eight years to pass with no effort beyond a single letter?" Darcy's face darkened.

Robert nodded. "My father did eventually become a better man, Mr. Darcy, but not for many years. The letter from his friend, Mr. Wickham, relieved his conscience of what little guilt he then felt. William Wickham, you see, had a cousin, a solicitor, who was of a similar age, whose wife was barren. This cousin, Mr. Alexander Wickham, was recommended to your grandfather, and arrangements were made in secret for the child to be adopted by Alexander and his wife, who would then take a position of service at Pemberley—as the steward—in order for the child to be raised on the family estate. This solution ensured that the offspring of John Darcy did not fall into poverty and granted a childless couple their fondest dream."

"My uncle should have tended to these obligations himself," Darcy declared angrily.

"Yes, he should have," Robert agreed, "but it nevertheless brought him great comfort when he learned that his son had been treated by the Darcys as one of their own, even though his true parentage could never be known to the world."

"It is true," Darcy reluctantly acknowledged, "George Wickham was my father's godson and regarded almost as a son. He was provided a gentleman's education and even granted an inheritance after he declined the family living in the church and refused to take orders. My father's attachment to him was so steadfast that even George's dissolute behavior could not shake it." Darcy frowned, shaking his head. "Wickham was his nephew all that time…."

"Had my father been a man of honor in his youth, his firstborn son would have been master of Pemberley," Robert said softly. "It is a small consolation that at least he grew up on the estate."

"What do you know of Pemberley?" Darcy asked soberly, his eyes fixed on Robert's face.

"I have seen it and was astonished that my father could bear to leave it. He never spoke of it until the very week of his death, and then it seemed that he wished to speak of nothing else." Robert dropped his head slightly and absently twisted the ring on his finger as he continued, "Last summer, I travelled to Derbyshire and applied to the housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, to be shown the interior of the house. I informed her that my name was also Darcy and that Pemberley was my ancestral home. I could not understand her strange behavior toward me until we encountered a large and imposing portrait of _you,_ Mr. Darcy. And then," Robert laughed with delight, "it became clear why every shopkeeper, every coaching inn, every single person I encountered in the county paid me far more deference than I deserved. They thought I was you!"

"Did you disabuse them of the notion?"

"It was a little too late for that!" Robert chortled. "I could certainly not return to every being I had encountered and offer an explanation. Besides, there were some who were so overjoyed that the illustrious 'Mr. Darcy' had patronized their establishment that it would have been a cruelty to inform them otherwise."

Darcy's face reddened, and he was poised to reply when a loud commotion in the hallway disrupted their conversation. It was evident that a man was attempting to gain admittance. Darcy moved toward the door with haste to intercept the intruder should he succeed.

The door opened suddenly, and a disheveled Colonel Fitzwilliam shook his arm free of the butler, whose attempt to detain the colonel had persisted right up to the study door. Darcy signaled the distressed butler that he was dismissed and turned to face his cousin with barely concealed irritation.

"Darcy! I _heard_ you were having some sort of shindig this morning. Why was I not invited?" The colonel tugged at his clothing to correct the disorder created by his tussle with the butler. "It's rather early in the morning to be scheduling social engagements, but as any good Fitzwilliam, I must have my share of them, regardless of the hour."

The other gentlemen in the room stood when the colonel entered, Robert with some alarm, and Sir Vincent with great amusement.

"Ah, Colonel Fitzwilliam! How very nice to see you again," Sir Vincent said with a bow. "I did not expect to see you today."

"Neither did my cousin!" Fitzwilliam said, slightly mocking as he glanced around the room. When his eyes arrived at the person of Robert Darcy, his head recoiled with a start, and he blinked rapidly. "What the devil?" He looked at Darcy, then rapidly glanced again at Robert, and landed back at Darcy with wide eyes as he jerked his head toward Robert. "Is this the Yank?"

"Good morning, Colonel Fitzwilliam," Darcy said levelly. "Allow me to introduce you to Mr. Robert Darcy, an American from Virginia. Mr. Darcy, this is my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam."

Fitzwilliam, his countenance lit with curiosity and an irrepressible grin, took a step forward. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," he said courteously with a bow. "I have been hoping to meet you for a full half-hour now, from the very moment my father informed me of your existence. I can only count it as the hallmark of a promising day that my wish was so quickly granted."

"Your wish, cousin," Darcy growled, "was not _granted_. Had I desired your presence at this private meeting, I would have invited you. But since you are here, I suppose you may stay."

"I had good reason to come," Fitzwilliam replied. "My mother has persuaded my father to extend the invitation for dinner tonight to your cousin as well. I am here to secure Mr. Darcy's attendance." He turned to Robert. "Is that agreeable to you, sir?"

Robert glanced at Darcy, who conceded with a barely discernible nod. "Very agreeable, Colonel," Robert replied. "My prospects for ringing in the New Year had been rather bleak. Things have taken a turn, however, and now I foresee naught but an evening spent in the society of my relations, and theirs."

"I had not supposed that your situation was so pitiable," Darcy said, "considering the company you keep. Has Speaker Abbot not engaged you for the evening?"

"Yes, sir, he has. I confess, however, that the conversation of Members of Parliament becomes wearisome after several nights, particularly when they relentlessly disparage my homeland. I may say nothing in defense of America, else, I am perceived an enemy. It would be a relief to step away from talk of Whigs and Tories for an evening, I assure you," Robert said. "I daresay he will not object if I send my regrets for tonight. Other members of Parliament are just now arriving in London, and his table will be full, of that I am certain."

"I must warn you that my uncle is a peer. I cannot guarantee an absence of politics in the discourse."

"It shall nonetheless be far more pleasant to converse with family in an intimate setting. Lord Matlock was, I understand, a great friend to my father at one time. I have anticipated meeting him for some great while," Robert admitted.

Colonel Fitzwilliam, with a nod to Sir Vincent, crossed the room and seated himself, crossing his legs in a relaxed position. He was more than willing to let his cousin carry _this _conversation. The Bow Street man followed his example and quit his standing position for the comfort of his chair.

"Are you prepared to meet my aunt, Lady Catherine, as well?" Darcy asked with a stone face.

Robert's face paled discernibly, and he glanced at the colonel, who was smiling at him as though it were all a play, put on entirely for his amusement. Looking back at Darcy, he cleared his throat. "Lady Catherine? She will be there? Is it certain?"

"Yes," Darcy said firmly, "and her daughter, Miss de Bourgh."

"Oh." Robert dropped weakly back into the leather chair he had formerly occupied. "Is she still…" he looked helplessly at Darcy and the colonel, swallowing painfully before he continued quietly, "bellicose?"

Colonel Fitzwilliam snorted involuntarily and tried to suppress his laughter, but his shoulders were shaking as his face turned red. Darcy pressed his lips together and frowned at his cousin with a shake of his head, but when Sir Vincent began to chuckle, Darcy allowed a slim smile to grace his lips. "Yes," he said humorlessly, "I believe she is much as she ever was."

Sir Vincent and the colonel could no longer contain their mirth and in unison burst into unrestrained laughter. Darcy rolled his eyes, and Robert looked at the other men with misery equal to their hilarity. "That does not bode well for me." A fresh bout of guffaws broke out, until the colonel and the investigator were gasping for breath and wiping tears from their eyes.

When the laughter subsided, it was evident that in this moment of unified aversion to Lady Catherine's disagreeable disposition, a bond had been forged between the Englishmen and the American. They spent the remainder of the hour in easy conversation, recounting tales of their encounters with that very woman. The colonel's stories were told best. He had a flair for the dramatic, and one would have thought he was speaking of the battlefield, were it not for the impersonations of his aunt interspersed throughout his accounts. Even Darcy laughed.

ooOoo

All evidence of Darcy's earlier foul temper was abated, and he joined Georgiana and her companion, Mrs. Annesley for a relaxed and pleasant breakfast. So easy were his manners that Georgiana harbored no suspicion that Darcy's mind was engaged elsewhere; he had schooled his emotions sufficiently to hide the nature of his ruminations. His demeanor was, if anything, a bit absent, as he daydreamed of the moment he would next see Elizabeth and pondered soberly on how best to introduce her to his relations.

Lord and Lady Matlock he knew to be eager to meet her, yet with little but his own endorsement in her favor, he could by no means rely on their approval—particularly since Lady Catherine had aired her objections to the match before he had informed them of the engagement himself. He could only hope that with his arrival this morning at Fitzwilliam House, his cousin Richard had added _his _good opinion to their ears.

His thoughts turned less on any concern of what they would make of _her_, but, rather, more on what she would think of _them_. He knew it was an irony; his association with Elizabeth had fundamentally altered him. He could not bear the thought that his relations might treat her with disdain or an air of superiority such as he had first imposed on the people of Meryton. He felt a surge of protectiveness for his beloved Elizabeth swell within him, and he silently contemplated how to best to ensure the success of the evening.

When they were nearly finished eating, Georgiana, encouraged by her brother's pleasant mood, ventured to inquire if it was still the plan to call on Miss Bennet in the course of the day. Darcy had forgotten his promise to do so, but upon the reminder, he readily agreed to visit at eleven o'clock in the morning, the earliest permissible hour for a formal morning call.

Georgiana's companion, Mrs. Annesley, agreed to the plan, and they all returned to their respective chambers to change their clothes and prepare for the outing. So keen was Darcy to be near Elizabeth that he calculated the exact time they must depart to achieve perfection in timing their arrival at Gracechurch Street. The Darcy carriage was delivered to the entrance of the Gardiners' house precisely at the appointed hour, and a footman was sent to the door with both Miss Darcy's and Mr. Darcy's calling cards. As they waited in the carriage to learn whether the lady of the house was in, the door swung open, and a young man, carrying a brown leather case, hastily quit the house.

Georgiana, who was looking out the carriage window, noticed him first and commented on what a very fine looking gentleman he was, calling their mutual attention to the departing guest. Immediately thereafter, a servant from the Gardiner household indicated that they were welcome to enter, and the Darcy party was escorted to the drawing room where Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth waited to greet them. The usual pleasantries ensued, and they settled in for their visit.

Georgiana faltered at first in entering the conversation, but Mrs. Gardiner and Mrs. Annesley began a polite discussion of the condition of the roads and the extremely cold weather. Elizabeth was able then to discreetly engage Georgiana on the topic of music, most particularly, who her favorite composers were, which pieces she liked to play, and her opinion of the musical studies of _Johann Baptist Cramer._ She also hinted that Colonel Fitzwilliam had informed her that she had sometimes sung duets with her brother, a topic upon which Georgiana enthusiastically elaborated.

Once she began to speak of music, she overcame her initial shyness, much as she had during the time she had spent with the Bennets at Longbourn. Mr. Darcy, having not seated himself near the women, had remained standing not far from them. He did so quietly, watching and listening to the exchange between his sister and Elizabeth. Elizabeth's kind and generous nature once again touched his heart, as she guided the conversation to topics she knew his sister might enjoy and offered sincere encouragement on the development of her talents.

Mrs. Gardiner served her guests refreshments, and though he had accepted them, Darcy did not partake initially, so engrossed was he in the interaction of his sister and his intended. He felt as he had felt when he had first met Elizabeth Bennet, watching from afar and observing her, that she was perhaps the most delightful creature he had ever encountered. Her countenance shone with genuine interest. Her features animated with lively engagement and focused attention on her partner. Her eyes twinkled with charming mischief as she begged Georgiana to confide details of his own musical accomplishments, and sparked with triumph when his sister so readily complied.

She had looked up at him just once, and in an instant, this day parted ways with those of the past, for in the past, she had pursed her lips or arched a brow when she had caught him looking at her. Today, however, when she raised her eyes to meet his, her lush lips had parted slightly; her dark eyes had become darker still as they widened and met his gaze directly. The look she bestowed on him caused his heart to race and his blood to boil. The regrettable end to this moment of indulgence came when he was forced to seat himself with his back to her and drink his now cold tea in order to regain his composure. Before he had finished, Mrs. Annesley mentioned that it was time to conclude the call, and Darcy looked at the clock to discover that, indeed, half an hour had quickly passed.

He could not bear to leave. He quietly begged Elizabeth to permit him to linger, and with Mrs. Gardiner's approval, the arrangements were made. He dispatched his sister and her companion with instructions to the driver of his carriage to return for him in two hours' time.

When he returned to the drawing room, Elizabeth sat demurely working on her sewing, triggering his memory yet again of another day when Elizabeth had been embroidering a handkerchief—the very one he now kept in a pocket next to his heart. He sighed with contentment.

Upon hearing his sigh, Mrs. Gardiner excused herself, apologetically informing the couple that she must check on the children in the nursery but would return within a half hour to wait upon them. She pulled the door to the drawing room closed behind her as she departed, leaving Darcy and Elizabeth quite alone.

Elizabeth set her sewing on the table beside her and, smoothing her dress, gracefully stood and addressed him with a warm smile. "Allow me to thank you for bringing your dear sister to call today. I fear that I was in dreadful need of company, and it has cheered me to have it."

Darcy closed the distance between them until he stood immediately before her. "I am glad that seeing her pleased you; I had hoped that it might do so. Is it too much to expect that you have wished for my company as well?"

"Not at all!" Elizabeth said with a tinkling laugh. "In truth, it was _your_ company I have longed for, my handsome Fitzwilliam, and your presence that has relieved any want of society I was feeling."

"We have much to discuss," Darcy breathed out softly as he gestured to Elizabeth to sit. "I hardly know where to begin for I have discovered the identity of the man we saw at the gardens, and I fear that the news may be difficult for you to hear."

"News of that man? Why, I had very nearly forgotten about him!" Elizabeth said in surprise. "I have had so many other things to occupy my thoughts that it seemed a rather silly thing to fret about."

"I am pleased that you did not do so. I did not wish to alarm you until I had discerned who he might be and his purpose in following us that day. What I have learned is that I have one more relation than I ever knew of, and it is he," Darcy began. "His name is Robert Darcy, and he will be one of the party this evening at my uncle's house." Darcy continued, relating all the facts he knew to Elizabeth. He concluded by informing her that he could see no means or reason to avoid a relationship with his new cousin, although he had not yet known him long enough to establish his true character and could not vouch for it.

Elizabeth, who had listened quietly throughout, finally spoke. "I find myself rather envious of you. When I first encountered a cousin I had never met—Mr. Collins—I discovered a ridiculous man who was only there to inventory his inheritance and to easily acquire a pretty wife from among the victims of the entail he would profit from. His own person left so much to be desired that he inspired revulsion and disgust on my part. My cousin had all the appearance of a toad!" Darcy smiled at her description, recalling his own feelings when he had believed the sanctimonious parson might win Elizabeth's hand.

"Oh, I see that you are far too satisfied with my jealousy," Elizabeth teased, "but your new cousin, by your account, is not only a man of education and information; he has attempted no claim on your estate, nor expected anything from you other than your acquaintance. In addition to all this, I am witness myself to the truth that he is quite as easy on the eyes as you are!"

"I willingly concede, madam, that my cousin is superior to yours," Darcy replied, "and can only hope that you do not find him in some way superior to me."

"That could not happen!" Elizabeth assured him. "Though he may have your looks, he does not have your mind or your heart! I am determined to like him, for your sake, but nothing more." She lowered her eyes and voice as she continued, "I do find myself somewhat daunted at the prospect of meeting your cousin at the same time as I make the acquaintance of your uncle and aunt. It is all too much!"

Darcy gently placed his fingers under her chin and lifted her face, causing her to look back in his eye. "My Elizabeth _daunted_? I do not believe it! Tell me how that can be?"

"My new clothes are not ready … it is too soon. I must wear one of the gowns I brought from Longbourn tonight," Elizabeth replied. "I fear I have nothing to wear that is fine enough to dine at the table of an earl. Perhaps we should postpone my meeting your relations until my attire meets your approval. I should very much prefer to make a good first impression."

Darcy frowned at her, knitting his brows in frustration. "We must not postpone. They have sent their regrets already to the engagement they had previously made for the sole purpose of entertaining _you _this evening."

"Oh," Elizabeth whispered, and she averted her eyes once again.

"Elizabeth, you are all that is lovely. All that you wear is graced by the person within and rendered a thing of beauty regardless of the cut or the trim. You need have no fear that they shall think less of you for want of the latest fashion."

"Thank you."

"My sister and my cousins, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Anne de Bourgh, would be most disappointed if you were not there, but the one whose disappointment would exceed that of all the others stands before you. I must warn you that I shall resort to the same method I used to persuade you to accept my proposal, if I must."

"I fear that you must," Elizabeth arched a brow. "Your mention of Miss de Bourgh has alerted me that Lady Catherine will likely grace your uncle's table as well. I have not told you of my latest encounter with your aunt; I had hoped to spare you the pain of hearing of it, but she is one person I would truly wish to avoid."

"What?" Darcy asked sharply, "Have you seen her since the ball at Netherfield?"

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "I beg you not to pursue this question. I shall attend this evening and endure Lady Catherine's presence as best I can."

"When did you see her? Did she come here?" Darcy pressed.

Elizabeth shook her head. "No, no, it was in Meryton, at Lucas Lodge, before we came to London."

"Why did you not tell me?"

"I had not wanted you to know … to hear … to…." Elizabeth trailed off, and she looked away.

"And I would wish for no secrets to lie between us," Darcy said roughly.

At this, Elizabeth thoughtfully returned her gaze to him. "No secrets?"

"Disguise of any sort is my abhorrence." Darcy nodded firmly. "I insist that you tell me."

"What of your secrets?" Elizabeth frowned. "Are you to tell me yours as well?"

"I have no secrets from you," Darcy said forcefully, denying her allegation. "There is nothing to tell."

"But I know that you do," Elizabeth countered. "I would prefer that you should offer them to me willingly rather than that I should be compelled to extract them from you."

Darcy looked at her in bewilderment. He could see that she was sincere in what she said, and he pondered but a moment before he arrived at his conclusion—she had somehow learned of the condition her father had put on the engagement! Mr. Bennet had insisted on a clause to his consent, that if Elizabeth found herself unhappy with the society of her new sphere, her father would rescind his permission for them to marry and support Elizabeth in refusing him.

This clause had been the source of disapprobation on Darcy's part, and he experienced a moment of mortification that she had discovered it. It had been his primary motive in doing all he could to ease Elizabeth's entrance into society, and his greatest fear was that Mr. Bennet would withdraw consent before the marriage had taken place. That he was not to tell Elizabeth had been her father's condition, and he could take no chance that the blame for her knowledge would fall to him.

He mentally condemned Mr. Bennet for causing this breach, not knowing that the secret she had discovered actually stemmed from his own condition that he would privately fund the expenses of Elizabeth's season in town. Had he known, he would have immediately confessed it with great relief. However, since Elizabeth's references were insufficient for him to discern it, he proceeded under his own belief.

"I was sworn to privacy on the matter by your own father and will not break my vow of silence until such time as he releases me from that promise."

"My father? That does not sound like him at all! Surely my father knows my desires and wishes better than to make such an arrangement as this. Oh, the scandal that would ensue if the gossips were to discover it! It is a perilous thing my father has done, Mr. Darcy. He must know that the only good opinion I seek is yours, and had he allowed us to marry in a month or six weeks, there would be no need for it—had my first season been as Mrs. Darcy such nonsense may have been done away with! It is wrong to keep something from me that affects me so directly! You may be assured that I shall discuss this with my father when we return to Meryton for Charlotte's wedding!"

"We cannot let this come between us," Darcy soothed, reaching out to stroke her cheek. "Ten years from now, when we are surrounded by a houseful of children at Pemberley, we shall laugh about the folly of your father and his evident desire to secure your happiness in such a way."

Elizabeth leaned against the warmth of his hand on her face and closed her eyes. "Tell me more of what is to come," she murmured. "I am not made to dwell on unhappy things, you know. Tell me of ten years from now, when I am not about to face your relations or be cast into a society I do not know. Tell me more of Pemberley and our children. How many boys shall there be? How many girls? As long as I have at least one son who favors you, I shall be content."

The time was long past for Mrs. Gardiner to join them in the drawing room, but Darcy did not think of that when he enveloped Elizabeth in his arms and drew her, unresisting, against him. "When you are Mrs. Darcy, I, too, shall be content. You must know that _we_ face my relations tonight, not just you. It is my fond wish that they will love you as I do, but if they do not, we shall not repine for the loss of their company, for we shall have each other. Lady Catherine would have you believe that no one will even acknowledge you, but she is alone in that opinion, at least within the family. My uncle has assured me that they would never go so far as to cut you openly, regardless of their approval."

Elizabeth, who had taken refuge in the steady thrum of his heart against her cheek, tipped her head back to look at him. He smiled tenderly at her and leaned down and kissed her forehead before he tightened his embrace again.

"Together we shall find our way in society. I have spent a lifetime among the elite circles and promise you that there are an equal number of kind and generous souls in that sphere as there are vicious ones. Do not fear—there will be a sufficient number to provide some true and intimate friends. If we can dine with four and twenty families, would that be enough?"

Elizabeth giggled at the indirect reference to her mother and nodded against his chest before she raised her face once more to reply, "Four and twenty will suffice." Before she could speak further, his warm and insistent lips were upon hers. She gasped and clung to him, the pent-up emotions of the past two days unleashed in a fierce response that surprised them both as she gripped his lapels tightly and pressed her mouth more firmly against his, eliciting an equal escalation on his part until both of them were disheveled and breathless.

It was over as quickly as it had happened. Elizabeth pulled back, wide-eyed and worried that he would consider her unexpected passion ill bred. Mr. Darcy stared back at her heatedly, reluctant to fully release her, knowing that he must. The desires of a thousand dreams had converged in that moment, and the self-regulation he had so carefully cultivated all his life seemed for naught. Thoughts of Gretna Green flickered through his conscious mind, but he suppressed them, and when he had adequately regained his equanimity, he smiled at her with such warmth of regard that any doubt on her part was driven away. "You drive a hard bargain, Elizabeth. Eight and forty families to dine with— that is my final offer."

"Dine with eight and forty families? Can you endure it, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth said with a soft laugh, as she attempted to tidy her hair.

"For you, I shall endure anything," Darcy replied seriously, "except, perhaps, the company of Mr. Collins."

Mrs. Gardiner entered the room, apologetically informing them that Flora was ill, and she must return to the nursery to tend to her.

After she once again quit the room, Darcy and Elizabeth sat and continued to speak quietly of gowns, riding lessons, Georgiana and Emilie. Darcy then informed her that the elder son of the earl was not yet in London and she would meet him and his wife at a later time. Lady Catherine was not mentioned again, but they discussed Lord and Lady Matlock until Darcy's carriage returned to convey him back to Darcy House.

* * *

**A/N** - Next up, dinner with Lord and Lady Matlock. Any predictions on what will happen there? Any special requests for the menu? Does anyone doubt that Robert is what he appears to be? Anyone still think that William Wickham was the Darcy's steward (He is not - in case you missed that part.) Thanks for your patience everyone. I'm trying to juggle writing with getting _One Thread Pulled_ up on Amazon. It could be this week!


	5. Ringing in the New Year

**Chapter Five – Ringing in the New Year**

Elizabeth's doubts regarding Darcy's engaging a maid for her had vanished within moments of meeting Emilie. She was above thirty years old and possessed a cheerful, soothing disposition which instilled an immediate confidence in her abilities. She had sized Elizabeth up within moments, pronounced her eyes her finest feature, and offered an objective assessment of Elizabeth's existing collection of gowns, which she had already re-arranged in the closet according to a longstanding system of suitability for various occasions.

After Elizabeth's afternoon visit with Darcy had concluded, she returned to her bedchamber to prepare for the evening at Fitzwilliam House. Her bedchamber at her uncle's home was smaller by half than her room at Longbourn. The dressing table and mirror barely allowed room for a second person behind them, yet Emilie was already working efficiently in the limited space. The hipbath she had obtained from Mrs. Gardiner was filled with steaming, scented water and situated in front of the fireplace, where a cheerful blaze maintained a blissfully warm room. Emilie was proficient as she assisted Elizabeth, insisting on using scented soaps and fragrant waters that had mysteriously appeared among the toiletries on the dressing table.

Fresh linen underclothes waited on the bed, along with an ornate frock that Elizabeth did not recognize. "Emilie," she asked, eyeing the gown, "where did this come from?"

"I beg your pardon, Miss Bennet, but your aunt informed me yesterday of your engagement tonight with Lord and Lady Matlock. I began preparations right away, with the unpicking done before I went to bed. During your early lessons with the masters this morning, your aunt and I shopped and purchased the trimmings to make over several gowns. This frock was edged in that canary braid before. It was very ugly." She frowned and pointed to a yellow pile that Elizabeth immediately recognized as coming from a gown that had once been Jane's, well suited to her sister's coloring, though not her own.

Examining the dress more closely, she shook her head in disbelief. "How could you have made this over so quickly?" Elizabeth cried, turning the garment over to look at the back. "It would have taken me many hours, indeed, _days_, to accomplish." She held the dress up by the shoulders in front of her, twisting it to catch the light, and then held it against herself to prove its appearance against her complexion in the looking glass. "The violet shade of the trim looks very fine indeed, Emilie, and the beadwork here, on the bodice is exquisite. With these embellishments and the trim on the hem, it is unrecognizable as the same dress at all. Why, anyone beholding it could find nothing wanting." Elizabeth smiled as she fingered the glass beads. "It is, indeed, the very height of fashion, and I assure you that I would know—I have spent far too many hours this week studying the modiste's plates!"

"I am satisfied that you are pleased, Miss Bennet," Emilie gave a single nod and slim smile. "I always stay abreast of the latest fashions and am exceedingly quick with a needle. Mrs. Gardiner allowed her maid to assist me, so while I did the bodice, she worked the hem. I was in no way certain we would finish in time, but since you did have another gown—a lovely gold-threaded muslin—that would have been suitable had we not completed our task, I was not overanxious." As Emilie assisted Elizabeth with the gown, she continued, "Your aunt, Mrs. Gardiner, was most generous and has loaned you this jewelry for the evening." Emilie opened a box on the dressing table, and Elizabeth gasped at the sight of the iridescent opal necklace and earrings. "You shall be very beautiful tonight."

Elizabeth smiled merrily and warned, "My hair is not always so cooperative as I would like. It seems to have a will of its own, especially in London when there is a mist. I cannot afford to be very particular about the style. I can only pray that my betrothed will be so enchanted with the dress that he shall overlook the unruliness of my locks."

"Ah, we do not take the same view of this crown of glory atop your head." Emilie gently guided Elizabeth to the dressing chair. "Let us see what I can make of it, and when I am done, I promise that your Mr. Darcy shall be _overcome_ when he sees you!" She became silent and focused as she began to brush and comb Elizabeth's silken, wavy tresses, occasionally dipping into a pot on the dressing table and smoothing something into the wayward strands, which seemed then to conform to her coaxing fingers, combing easily into shimmering tendrils and ringlets. With skillful attention, the French lady's maid transformed her mistress's appearance from that of a simple country maiden into the very image of sophisticated, graceful elegance. Seeing her reflection in the mirror, Elizabeth could not restrain the upward turn of her lips, which Emilie spied in the glass, then softly prompted, "You are very alluring, no?"

"You are a magician…" Elizabeth whispered back as she admired her appearance, "although perhaps more like a godmother from a fairy tale. Tell me truthfully, do you have glass slippers in your pocket and a pumpkin under the bed?"

Emilie smiled and shook her head. "Not glass, _mademoiselle_, but satin." She produced a shimmering pair of violet slippers, which matched the trim at the hem of the dress and had been embellished with beads like those on the bodice. "Mr. Darcy, however, shall be obliged to provide your carriage, as I am wholly out of pumpkins. Perhaps it is best, however, for I loathe mice, which are vile creatures and should have no place whatsoever in fairy tales!"

"Oh!" Elizabeth cried as she took the slippers from Emilie and slipped them on. "I have never worn such an elegant pair of shoes in all my life! I hope they do not pinch…."

"I promise they shall not! That would make you frown, and my reputation depends upon your smiling, Miss Bennet." Emilie looked her new mistress up and down and declared, "You are _fantastique_!"

ooOoo

Darcy returned to the Gardiner's home alone, on horseback, only a few hours after he had departed. It was, after all, the first New Year's Eve since he had met Elizabeth, and he would not waste a traditional occasion to bestow a gift on her. He had pondered since Christmas on the opportunity and had acquired something he hoped would please her. Georgiana had assured him of his excellent taste, but she had also solemnly informed him that to be acceptable, the gift must be presented with poetry, ideally, a verse written by his own hand. When told that Elizabeth possessed no fondness for sonnets, Georgiana declared that he, nevertheless, must compose at least two couplets to accompany the gift or be regarded as insincere.

"I would not force you, Brother," she had said, "but it must be very romantic, for the other ladies shall ask her to recite the poem, and it would be very shameful, indeed, if it fails to impress."

Many hours of insomnia he could attribute to the composition of the four lines now neatly written on a card, which he carried in the pocket of his greatcoat, along with the gift. He delivered his horse to the stable adjacent to the Gardiner's carriage house and walked back around to the entrance, laughing at himself for the giddy eagerness he felt in the anticipation of seeing her again. He had never imagined that the intensity of his desire to be with her would continue to increase; yet, he encountered daily proof that he had not yet achieved the height of his adoration of her. The butler escorted him to the drawing room, where he was greeted warmly at the door by Mr. Gardiner, who expressed surprise at Darcy's arrival half an hour before he was expected. The housekeeper bustled around the room, hastening to light candles to illuminate the room for their guest.

"Yes, I am early, sir," Darcy acknowledged, glancing at the flustered servant. "I have come with the hope of a few private moments with Miss Bennet before we depart to my uncle's home. I trust it does not seem presumptuous. I have a gift I wish to bestow on her—to celebrate the New Year."

The butler left to have Elizabeth summoned, requiring Mr. Darcy to keep company with Mr. Gardiner while they waited for her. Initially, the expectation of a wait increased Darcy's agitation, but he soon realized that his conversation with the older man had a calming effect on him, and so Darcy engaged fully in it. Like Elizabeth, there was no pretension in her uncle's manner. He did not seek Darcy's good opinion, nor did he behave as if he considered himself an inferior. His intelligence and information carried the discussion, and Darcy realized with surprise that Elizabeth's ability to converse equally well with friends and strangers was an inheritance from her _mother's_ side of the family. Before he could ponder further on this discovery, Elizabeth entered the drawing room, unaware that Mr. Darcy was within.

"Uncle, I have been searching high and low for … Mr. Darcy!"

Darcy bowed, "It would seem that your search was successful, Miss Bennet. I am at your service."

"No, I mean, I … I was looking for the new gloves my aunt gave me, that is…" Elizabeth colored and curtseyed. "Did I mistake the time I was to be ready?"

"Do not make yourself uneasy," he smiled at her discomposure. "I came early, ahead of the rest of the party. I wished to speak to you … alone."

Elizabeth nodded at her uncle, who was already nearly out the door, which he left open. "You certainly seek a private audience with alarming frequency, Mr. Darcy. Take care, or we shall inspire a scandal."

"Forgive me," Darcy looked contrite, although the fire in his eyes belied contrition. "I desired to give you this token of my regard, ere the evening began." He reached into his waistcoat and retrieved a long, slender satin bag, and a square card. "Happy New Year, Elizabeth." He held the items out to her.

"Oh!" Elizabeth did not reach for the gifts, but looked at his face with trepidation. "I did not think … I had not … I am sorry, but I have nothing for you." She dropped her head slightly, all the while looking at the bag and the card with curiosity.

Darcy raised his hand, urging her to take the bag and card. "Your pleasure is the only gift I need. I beg you—do not turn down my offering. I daresay that it is but a trifle, but I did put some thought into it and hope very much that you will like it."

She picked up the card and opened it, reading silently before her lips rounded to form an "o," and she raised her shining eyes to him as she retrieved the bag from his open palm. "Did you write this yourself, or did you find some obscure poet to plagiarize?"

"It depends on whether or not you like it. If you do, then I shall own it; but, if you despise it, well, I shall blame Byron."

"Have I not warned you," Elizabeth said lightly, "of the power of poetry to vanquish love? Fortunately, these verses are not so very bad. I daresay they might even be pleasing if they were to fall upon my _ears_ so that I may hear how they were intended to be spoken, and then you need not disguise the source. I would hate to make a liar of you."

Darcy pulled the card from between her fingers and opened it. In a low voice, soft and melodic, he began:

"Y_our face I see in dark of night,_

_I would that sunlight eased my plight,_

_The ache is worse when you are gone,_

_The day we wed shall be my dawn."_

Elizabeth had closed her eyes as he spoke and opened them slowly when he finished. "The words are very pretty indeed, when spoken thus," she whispered. "You may yet succeed in changing my opinion on the subject of poetry. I do believe I shall like this new poet, should he be inclined to devote further verses to his love."

Darcy urged her to open the satin bag. "I already know what this is, dearest," Elizabeth laughed as she took it and tapped it playfully in her palm, "but I confess to a wild curiosity over the appearance of it. Did Fitzwilliam Darcy select a folding fan for his lady that is simple or ornate? Will it be ivory? painted? trimmed in lace, or ribbons? Will it be an import from the continent, or even the Orient? Something crafted by a local tradesman perhaps?"

"Shall I describe it to you then? By your own information, a surprise is your abhorrence, and I do not wish to displease you." Darcy's brows rose. "I had hoped to teach you to enjoy surprises, but considering your acquiescence on the question of poetry, I am willing to concede the surprise."

"A fine concession!" Elizabeth cried, undoing the bow and pulling the drawstring as she continued, "I am now quite determined to enjoy your surprise, Mr. Darcy, but do not get used to such easy surrender on my part, for it is not in my nature to be so complying." She withdrew the fan and expanded it, exclaiming over the silver-threaded lace that covered the ribs. "You are truly not easy to predict, sir, for this fan is both simple _and_ ornate, and not merely trimmed in lace, but completely covered in it. It is not an import, but crafted in…" she looked at the stamp on the handle, "…Meryton! You went to the maker I told you of? This is his mark!" A wide smile spread across her face, and she began rapidly fanning herself. "I had not suspected you of sentimentality! I must wonder now, however, why you would give me a _fan_. You can have only one object, I believe, in bestowing this particular gift."

"What object is that?" Darcy's eyes squinted defensively.

"Why, that I shall be obliged to _flirt_ with you, of course!" Elizabeth fluttered the fan rapidly, her eyes peeking over the curve of the top. "I am in no need of a cool breeze in the middle of winter after all, and you can be in no doubt regarding my affections. Do you deny that you wish it?"

Darcy's features became tense, his eyes widened, his lips pressed together, and he stared at Elizabeth, who not only continued to fan herself alluringly, but fluttered her eyelashes so that he could envision the mischievous pucker of her hidden lips. He tugged at his cravat and cleared his throat. "I thought you would like the fan … that is all."

Elizabeth closed the fan with a snap and tapped her lips with it. "Do you mean to say that I should _not_ flirt with you? I thought, perhaps, since you have declared an ardent love for me, and since I _am_ to become your wife, you might permit it, welcome it even. Perhaps you are not familiar with the signals a lady may silently send across the room with one of these?"

Darcy stared at her lips, the top edge of the fan resting lightly on the bottom one. He swallowed loudly and raised his eyes to hers. "I am well aware of the signals, Elizabeth. I have just never seen you use them."

"That," she said as she gently tapped his shoulder with the fan, "is because I am not truly a flirt. I would not trifle with anyone's affections in such a way, yet I confess no such scruples when it comes to my intended husband. The only one I shall _ever_ flirt with is you … if you will permit it. I promise that I shall be discreet."

Darcy inclined his head toward her. "I would not suspend any pleasure of yours. The fan is my gift to you, and these flirtations shall be your reciprocation, which I am prepared to endure with equanimity. Are we agreed?"

"_Endure with equanimity_?" she said archly. "We shall see about that!"

The door to the drawing room opened, and Mrs. Gardiner entered, looking at an article in her hands, "Lizzy, I found your gloves in the nursery; I believe that Lily was playing with … Oh! Mr. Darcy."

"Thank you, Aunt Gardiner. I was searching everywhere for those gloves." Elizabeth retrieved them and pulled them on as she continued speaking, "They were the last items I needed to be ready for my engagement this evening. There," she pulled the second glove up her arm and pressed her hand nervously against her stomach, "Am I acceptable to dine with an earl and countess?"

"Why, you are the very _picture_ of loveliness, niece," Mrs. Gardiner said reassuringly, "do you not agree, Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy glanced at Elizabeth, her color visibly heightening upon the examination. "Mrs. Gardiner, your niece is among the handsomest woman of my acquaintance. She is lovely, indeed…." The abrupt entrance of the butler to the drawing room, informing Darcy that his carriage had arrived, interrupted further elaboration on Elizabeth's appearance as the couple hastily put on their outerwear. His scrutiny of her, however, did not cease.

ooOoo

Darcy handed Elizabeth down from the carriage, followed by Georgiana. Robert Darcy exited last, and the foursome were soon announced to the occupants of the ornate drawing room of Fitzwilliam House.

Darcy conducted the introductions, and at the appropriate time, Elizabeth curtsied and greeted her host and hostess graciously. Lady Catherine, sitting nearby, merely sniffed when Elizabeth acknowledged her, but Anne de Bourgh beamed at Elizabeth with unabashed delight to see her again.

Robert Darcy was also introduced, initially as Darcy's cousin from America, and was met with a mixture of formal civility coupled with open curiosity by Lady Matlock, Lady Catherine and Anne. Colonel Fitzwilliam greeted him as if they were old friends, and Lord Matlock stood by with barely suppressed anticipation for the next phase, which Darcy had agreed would ideally be led by him.

Following the general introductions, it was evident that Elizabeth was the primary object of the elder women's attentions, so Lord Matlock moderated his voice to be loud enough that the women could not avoid overhearing his conversation. "Mr. Darcy," he said to the American, "I understand that you are, in fact, the son of John Darcy of Pemberley, is this not so?" He smiled to himself at the abrupt cessation of the women's voices.

"Yes, my lord, it is true. My father, the late John Darcy, called Derbyshire home as a youth. It was his fond wish that I return to England and acquaint myself with those relations who remained here."

Lord Matlock, who had been discreetly watching his sister, pressed his lips together in satisfaction when he saw her stiffen and lean slightly toward them. "We were all so distressed when he disappeared. It is a relief to know that he did not die all those years ago. It is a great sorrow that he never returned to England himself, for we all mourned him as dead."

"It was his sorrow as well. By the time he came to truly appreciate the great importance of family connections, his health would not permit him to travel such a distance. He charged me with the errand to fulfill his duty by discovering what had become of certain persons, making amends where possible, and begging forgiveness of those who deserved better." Robert spoke with sincerity to Matlock, unaware of the fish-faced stare of Lady Catherine behind him.

"That is a weighty errand, indeed. What has been your success?" Matlock asked with another furtive glance at his sister. "Have you anyone left to contact?"

"I have not been so successful as I had hoped. I have spent much of my time searching for an elder brother, but I was too late. He died before I could find him, less than six weeks ago. My cousin knows all the particulars of that affair—I prefer not to discuss such dreary things on the eve of a New Year, however, but to hope instead for better." Robert turned around toward where Darcy, Georgiana and Elizabeth stood, and gesturing toward them, he added as he took a step toward them, "I have the bright hope, now, of enjoying the company of relations I had not known before, which brings me cheer such as I have not felt for many days."

Robert realized of a sudden that the room had fallen silent as he spoke. "Have I said something wrong?"

"No, you have not." Elizabeth smiled warmly at him. "It is only that as you turned just now and stood next to your cousin, Mr. Darcy, your countenance and your proximity to one another has demonstrated most profoundly the similarities between you. You bear a most striking resemblance!"

"Yes, I know. It has only once been the source of any true distress on my part, though I fear my cousin will not say the same." Robert laughed somewhat merrily. "Would you like to hear about it?"

"I would," Darcy interrupted levelly. "I surmise that you are not speaking of your encounter with Mrs. Reynolds?"

"Oh, no," Robert chortled, "this was far from Derbyshire and happened but two weeks ago." He gestured for those who were still standing to be seated before he began. "After I learned of the death of my brother in Kympton, I was at a loss for what to do next, or where to go. I returned to the home of my father's friend, Mr. William Wickham, in Hampshire. He lives in the village of Binsted, on the Isle of Wight, which is a delightful place. I was thankful for his invitation and happy to be settled with friends for Christmas. They introduced me to society there, and I attended several Christmas parties and balls with my hosts. It was on one of these occasions that I was approached by a rather beautiful woman who claimed an acquaintance, believing me to be _you_, Darcy."

"This is fascinating," Colonel Fitzwilliam interjected. "I only know of one female of Darcy's acquaintance who has lately travelled to the south." He looked meaningfully at Darcy. "Well, two, actually, but they are sisters, and one is married. What, pray tell, was the name of this beauty?"

"You are ahead of me in the story, Colonel," Robert censured lightly, "but since you ask, I will tell you. Her name was Miss Bingley, Miss Caroline Bingley. She was very forward and attempted for nearly an hour to coerce an admission that I had followed her to the Isle to make an offer of marriage."

"Miss Bingley?" Georgiana gasped. "Please tell us… you did not propose to her, did you?"

"Well…" Robert said, "she _was_ very elegant and beautiful—artful too, but I was fortunate that my mentor in Hampshire is a retired spy! He knows nearly everyone of consequence in the vicinity, and it did not take him long to uncover the truth about poor, mad, Miss Bingley. I confess that I felt pity for her, and so I humored her to some degree. I was, however, cautious as well, lest she pursue her notion that you," he nodded at Darcy, "or I had somehow imposed on her."

"Did you encounter Mr. and Mrs. Hurst as well?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked. "They were to have accompanied Miss Bingley to see her settled there."

"Yes, I did," Robert confirmed with a nod. "After dinner, when the men separated from the women, it was Mr. Hurst who confirmed that Miss Bingley was indeed an intimate friend of Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, as were he and his wife. I had not expected to find anyone who knew you so far from Derbyshire, but Mr. Hurst left me in no doubt of the friendship or of Miss Bingley's continued expectations of it. In truth, I do not believe she is even aware of your engagement to Miss Bennet."

"Miss Bingley left Hertfordshire rather suddenly—before my engagement to Miss Bennet had been formalized and made known to the world. I left it to my friend Mr. Bingley to inform his relations. She would not have known, had she not read it in the papers," Darcy admitted.

"She was never fully convinced that I was not you," Robert said. "I admit to some cowardice when I left, for I feared that she might make a scene. I, therefore, did not inform her of my plans to depart Binsted and come to London. I had my hostess, Mrs. Wickham, send a note informing Miss Bingley of my departure well after it had taken place."

"Miss Bingley," spoke the cold voice of Lady Catherine, "is the daughter of a tradesman. Perhaps in America the lines of rank are blurred, but here in England, they are preserved. She is not fit company for the grandson of an earl." Although she spoke of Caroline, Lady Catherine's glare was focused on Elizabeth.

"Lady Catherine," Elizabeth replied sweetly, "although he may look rather remarkably like one, Robert Darcy is _not,_ in fact, the grandson of an earl. His acquaintance with Miss Bingley cannot possibly offend you on grounds of rank."

"He said himself that she mistook him for my nephew, and offend, it most certainly does! The sphere to which one is born is no mere chance of lineage, but a birthright dictated by the hand of God Himself. Do you presume to know better than the Almighty, Miss Bennet? Well, that is a question I need not ask, for we already know the answer." Lady Catherine squinted one eye menacingly. "It is a disgrace and a—"

"Catherine!" Matlock growled. "Cease this at once!" He tugged firmly on his waistcoat, calmly informed his guests that the preparations for their meal were complete, and bid the group to follow him. He held his arm out for his wife, and with her arm intertwined with his, Lord and Lady Matlock led the party from the drawing room to the dining room.

ooOoo

The fragrant aroma of turtle soup wafted through the hallway, enticing them to hasten their steps to the dining room where the delicacy awaited. Upon entering the room, Elizabeth suppressed her initial astonishment at the general splendor and resolved to take it all in without appearing to be more than simply curious. Wax candles brightly illuminated the table which was set with gleaming silver alongside fine Milton china emblazoned with the Fitzwilliam family crest.

Lady Matlock proved herself a brilliant hostess when, as they entered the room, she declared that since it was a family dinner, each guest would select a seat at the table for themselves, yet Elizabeth observed that she managed to cleverly manipulate the seating to suit her own purposes through subtle suggestions. It was by this means that Elizabeth found herself seated at the corner of the table, with Lady Matlock on the end to her right and Darcy on her left. Robert Darcy was seated across the table, on the other side of their hostess.

As the soup was served, Lady Matlock engaged her soon-to-be niece in a cordial conversation, inquiring about her family, her education, her travels, and the society in Hertfordshire. The questions were of the same nature as those previously asked of her by Lady Catherine, which caused a fierce determination to swell within Elizabeth to cheerfully represent herself in a positive light. Her family, she declared to be charming; her sister Jane, the toast of the county; her sister Mary, a virtuous creature in whom even the Reverend Fordyce would find little fault. Kitty and Lydia, she allowed, suffered from a degree of youthful exuberance, which she hoped would soon be tempered with the improved judgment that comes from experience and maturity. By her description, Longbourn could easily be taken as the finest manor in all of Hertfordshire. Her education, she declared, had been liberal and broad. Her father personally undertook her instruction, she explained; in the absence of a son, he had opened his library to his daughters and instructed them in reason and philosophy.

Lady Catherine, seated at too far a distance to join the conversation, was not too far away to overhear it. The snorts and grunts that emanated from her person inspired Colonel Fitzwilliam to inquire after her health and suggest that she retire for the evening early should her difficulties persist.

Darcy also spent much of the meal listening to Elizabeth converse with his aunt. When Elizabeth attempted to draw him into their conversation, he would participate briefly and lapse again into silence as soon as could be.

Robert Darcy, on the other side of the table, observed Elizabeth with great interest. His cousin's choice of wife intrigued him. In his travels throughout England, he had met none like her. Her manners, he noted, were engaging and unfailingly polite, with a hint of impertinence veiled by wit—a combination he found uniquely enticing. He saw in her the sophistication that marks good breeding, yet there was a charmingly unpretentious air about her. That she was unaware of this effect was evident in her ease of manner and blithe conversation. He could easily see that Lady Matlock was gradually warming to Elizabeth.

Glancing at his cousin, Robert realized that Darcy's silence was evidence not of an inability to converse, but rather of his enamored state of admiration for the lady. He watched in fascination as nearly each statement by Elizabeth elicited the merest hint of a response in Darcy's face. A twitch at the corner of his mouth, a flicker of movement in his brow. He recognized these looks, for his own besotted father had worn them when looking at his mother. He silently wondered about Elizabeth's unattached sisters, whether one of them was like her, and if so, whether or not she might consider immigrating to America. He could imagine himself a happy man with such a wife.

ooOoo

The hour after the evening meal was excruciating for Darcy. He generally enjoyed the separation of the sexes following dinner, but on this night, he was ready to rejoin the ladies in the drawing room within fifteen minutes. Elizabeth, he knew, was well able to remain composed in the face of his Aunt Catherine's hostility, but he had been unable to detect his Aunt Eleanor's opinion of Elizabeth. She had been civil, but by no means warm, to his intended bride. Georgiana, he knew, was too timid to aid in any way should his aunts become unpleasant, and his cousin Anne was unpredictable of late.

Lord Matlock was shamelessly interrogating Robert, with the colonel cheerfully adding his questions as well. Darcy observed that his amiable cousin Robert possessed the same innate ability to engage with new acquaintances as his deceased half-brother, George Wickham, and was answering their questions with straightforwardness and grace. _How odd that_ _Robert Darcy is so like me in appearance, yet he easily converses and performs to strangers, as I never could._

Darcy half-listened as Robert enthusiastically described his grand estate in Virginia and recited his father's history. John Darcy had received a settlement of land from Robert's grandfather, Thomas Lee, upon John's marriage to Thomas's only daughter, Emma. He had named the plantation _Pember Lee_, as tribute to both his ancestral home in England and to his wife's family name. Robert then spoke extensively of his mother's family. Though she herself had been an only child, as had her father, the larger extended family of Lees was a powerful, well-established family in Virginia. Within half an hour of their dividing from the women, the interview had turned, and Robert was regaling the Fitzwilliam men with a tale of one of his mother's distant cousins, a Revolutionary War officer famously known as "_Light-Horse Harry_" Lee. During a brief lull in the conversation, Darcy heard the faint sound of a pianoforte coming from the drawing room. He imagined he could hear Elizabeth singing as well.

"Shall we adjourn and repair to the drawing room?" Darcy suggested hopefully, after several minutes had passed while he had strained to hear the sound again.

Colonel Fitzwilliam cocked an eyebrow. "As much as she adores you, my mother would not be pleased to see you yet. She cherishes her time alone with the ladies and would consider an early appearance by the men an imposition, although she would never blame _you_. No, I am staying for a full se'night under this roof, and I fully intend to remain in her good graces. Five and twenty minutes more, and we may go, and not a moment sooner."

ooOoo

Five and twenty minutes later, Darcy tossed back the last of his drink, cleared his throat, straightened his cravat, finger-combed his hair and announced his intention to go to the drawing room. With a glance at the clock, the colonel nodded and hurriedly emptied his glass as well.

"Has an hour passed already?" Robert seemed surprised. "Surely there will be no complaints if we delay a few more minutes."

"I must insist," Darcy said levelly. "We are celebrating the New Year after all, and it will not do to make the ladies wait."

"His meaning, sir," Colonel Fitzwilliam said pleasantly, "is that it will not do to make _his_ lady wait. I shall escort Mr. Darcy to the drawing room before his agitation alarms us all. You may follow with his lordship when you will."

ooOoo

Upon entering the drawing room, Darcy's eyes first fell on Lady Catherine, who had seated herself next to the blaze in the fireplace, rather than in her usual central location. She looked decidedly put out and scowled at him the moment he crossed the threshold.

Elizabeth was seated on the swivel stool in front of the pianoforte, with Georgiana next to her on another stool. They were somewhat awkwardly playing a duet, whilst Anne de Bourgh and Lady Matlock each stood at a side of the instrument. One of them played a wrong note, and a merry laugh escaped from Elizabeth. She tipped her head affectionately toward Georgiana, and they continued playing, taking a few measures to be fully back in time with each other. Anne's face shone with delight as her hand daintily pressed to her lips to suppress a giggle, and although they could not see their aunt's face, her attitude suggested that she too was highly entertained.

Colonel Fitzwilliam stopped his cousin from progressing further into the room; the two gentlemen stood frozen, silently observing the enchanting scene before them. There, as statues, they would have remained had it not been for the loud salutation from Lady Catherine. "My nephews! You have come at last! That you have stayed away so long when it is nearly all family tonight is insupportable. There could be no call for such a prolonged delay, in spite of Miss Bennet's presence."

"Aunt Catherine," the colonel said soothingly, "do not blame Miss Bennet. I daresay that my mother is the true culprit. She wished to spend more time in your company and less in ours. One cannot blame her for preferring the refined conversation of the ladies."

Elizabeth and Georgiana stopped playing the moment Lady Catherine spoke. Elizabeth stiffened at the slight, but recovered her serenity with only a glance at Darcy's face, although her color deepened when she did so. Lady Matlock turned around and clapped her hands once, which would have appeared to be an expression of joy at the appearance of her nephews had not two footmen entered at her summons and begun to move the furnishings in the room against the wall.

"I understand," she said to Darcy with a glance toward Elizabeth and a conspiratorial grin, "that my nephew, who _rarely_ dances, actually did so at a ball in November. What a joy it would have been to witness it! It is fortunate, indeed, that there are enough tonight to form a triple; it is my desire that we dance tonight, to ring in the New Year! The two of you, plus your American cousin make three men, and with Miss Bennet, Miss Darcy and Miss de Bourgh as your partners, we shall no doubt have a lively evening. My sister, Lady Catherine, does not play—as we well know—although she claims such enjoyment in music that she can have no cause to repine. Fortunately, I am proficient at the pianoforte and promise to keep you all on the tips of your toes for more than one set. His lordship does not dance and may come turn the pages for me."

The remaining evening hours were spent dancing. Lady Matlock was tireless in her playing, taking great pleasure in the young couples' dancing. Elizabeth's movements were fluid and graceful, and Anne, though out of practice, could dance well enough, as long as there were rest periods between the sets. Georgiana, who was not yet out in company, was particularly delighted to practice the figures she was learning from her dancing masters. Darcy's enjoyment came less from the music and motion, and more from Elizabeth's delicately fluttering fan between sets.

A few minutes before midnight, they ceased dancing and were soon seated together in a circle around the hearth. At the first stroke of the hour, Lord Matlock left the group and went to the front door of Fitzwilliam House and opened it wide, to let the old year out. When the twelfth and final chime rang, having let in the new year, he closed the door and returned to the drawing room, where the family awaited his return, each with a wine glass at the ready. They raised their glasses in a toast, and in unison they exclaimed, "Be well!" as they clinked their glasses together. The glasses were quickly drained and passed off to a footman so that hands could be joined, and together, they sang _Auld Lang Syne_. Colonel Fitzwilliam sang in an excellent Scottish brogue, which earned him a glare from his mother and a grin from Elizabeth.

The party was then concluded, but not before Darcy declared that the coming year was to be the best year of his life thus far, and he was glad to see it come. All but Lady Catherine agreed.


	6. Twelfth Night

**A/N** Real Life strikes again, not just for me, but for a couple of my amazing betas too. Thanks for your patience – I hope you find that the wait was worth it!

**Chapter Six – Twelfth Night**

"What is your opinion of Miss Bennet?" Matlock inquired softly of his wife as the Darcy carriage rolled away into the foggy night.

Lady Matlock did not answer until the doors were secured behind them, then she cocked her head thoughtfully and said, "I was disposed, nay, I truly _expected_, to dislike her—I had anticipated finding her coarse and vulgar from the first moment I read of Darcy's engagement to an obscure country maid. Catherine's information merely confirmed my belief, for her disdain was based, not merely on rumor or speculation, but on personal observation. My disappointment was founded in the hopes I have always harbored in a great match for my nephew—I was truly grieved that he had abandoned duty and honor to marry one so decidedly below his station," Lady Matlock sighed. "But I found that upon making her acquaintance, I could not dislike her, not at all."

"So you liked her?" Matlock guided his wife toward the stairs that led to their bedchambers, picking up a candle from the table in the hall as they passed it.

"I think it is too soon to say, but I am certainly not set against her. Her comportment was above reproach, and her conversation was informed and lively. I daresay, however, that these attributes are found in our own circles easily enough, and Darcy could have found a suitable wife from among the ladies of the _ton_ long ago. What I was unprepared for, and which has weighted the scales in favor of Miss Bennet for now, is the perfect ease that I witnessed in both Anne and Georgiana in her company. Darcy was also unusually relaxed in her presence. We have both known him long enough to understand that he possesses an unsociable, taciturn nature which has only become more marked since the death of his father. Tonight, he was very nearly amiable."

"She brings no fortune or connections to the match." Matlock said with a frown.

"Darcy is already engaged to her, fortune or not. It cannot be undone—not without scandal."

"So what is to be done?"

Lady Matlock shook her head. "We must at least make an effort to introduce her into society, but I fear we can do little more. Those of the first circles will undoubtedly test her—it is our way—but if she is to truly succeed, it must be on her own merit. She is, thankfully, gentle born, and bears a certain gentility which I found appealing. She seems respectable enough, though if Catherine is to be believed, her family is a savage lot. We must take care that we do not bring any shame upon the Fitzwilliam name in recommending Miss Bennet."

"How do you propose we begin? Usually a young lady in her first London season is _launched_, is she not?"

"Yes, but that is for the purpose of a _début—_for coming out—which poses a conundrum in the case of Miss Bennet. She is already engaged to Darcy, so no one would accept that she is _just_ coming out. No, the traditional convention of a societal launch is out of the question. We must invite them to our Twelfth Night ball of course, and begin the introductions among our intimate acquaintances. In this way, Miss Bennet might at least have a few friendly alliances as the season commences. I believe we should extend the invitation to her uncle and his family. We must meet her relations at some time, and a children's ball is less formal, and always such a merry event.

"We should also host a ball in her honor … yes … that would be most appropriate. I think a Valentine's ball might do, though the fourteenth is the Sabbath, so we will be obliged to hold it on Monday instead. I believe that we shall have a full moon on the fifteenth of February, so it is perfect! It is early in the season to be sure, but late enough that the ladies in town may have their gowns ready, and it gives me time to write the invitations. I do hope the weather has improved by then; I cannot recall a winter as bitter and bleak as this has been."

Matlock nodded. "And what of the American, Robert Darcy?"

Lady Matlock hesitated before answering, "Indeed, I do not know _what_ to think of him. He seems sincere, and gentlemanly, although with a measure of that unfortunate forwardness one commonly sees among the Americans. They tend to be altogether too brash for my taste, but he, at least, did not seem _overly _so. He bears the Darcy name, which is in his favor, and he has already made powerful alliances for himself in Mr. Wickham and Speaker Abbot."

"These thoughts are much as mine have been." Matlock opened the door to his bedchamber as he continued, "My own connection to the Darcy name cannot be ignored, and such a powerful political connection in the House of Commons as the Speaker—well, I would be a fool to discard such an influential thing lightly. Although Abbot is not a peer, his position in the House could be used to great advantage, should I gain his confidence." He slipped through the doorway to his room and handed the candle through the door to his wife.

"Do you trust him?" Lady Matlock asked, her face a mask of shadows in the golden candlelight.

He paused, looking meaningfully at his wife in the hallway. "No. I cannot blindly trust any American, particularly one who possesses the means to injure my relations, but I intend to crush my doubts nonetheless, in light of the gains that may be made through the connection."

ooOoo

New Year's day could scarcely be said to have dawned. An oppressive layer of fog hung over the city, beneath a blanket of charcoal grey clouds. The household did not rouse until well past the usual hour, although Elizabeth awoke to the sound of a servant lighting a fire in the fireplace. She nestled under the counterpane and re-lived the events of the evening in her mind, as she waited for the room to warm a few degrees.

Mr. Darcy had been attentive when the men rejoined the ladies after dinner—more than she had come to expect of her reserved future groom when in company, and she pondered on the change. Was it an extension of his true affection for her, or a subtle message to his family that the engagement was not to be easily disrupted by any interference? In either case, her enjoyment of the evening had been complete; she had even felt some compassion for Lady Catherine, who surely was witness now to the plans of a lifetime crumble before her.

She pondered on Robert Darcy, who, like her own Fitzwilliam, spent a good portion of the evening watching her. She recognized now, as she had not previously, the silent stare of admiration. It did not worry her—as an engaged woman, certainly no man would make a design on her, yet she longed for Jane's gentle reassurance that none would do so. Jane's latest letter, sifted into her consciousness. _Dear, dear Jane. How I hope to gain some of your goodness, for I wish myself half as happy as you. If I could but hear your voice, dispensing your advice to believe no ill of anyone, I am certain you would persuade me to see my situation with a perfect clarity. _With a sigh, she pushed the counterpane down, allowing the slight chill remaining in the air to rouse her from her languid state.

Being New Year's Day, no masters were scheduled to tutor, and the modiste would not come for the first fitting until the following Monday, which under the circumstances was a relief. Elizabeth arose and rang for Emilie, with plans to write a letter to Jane before breakfast.

Emilie entered, carrying a pile of rags in her arms. "I anticipate that you shall be in need of these today, Miss Bennet, but if not today, perhaps tomorrow?"

Elizabeth blinked and colored. "My need is immediate. How did you know?"

Emilie smiled cheerily. "Your aunt spoke to me of her concern that your usual nature has been unsettled since you arrived—unlike the steady niece she usually sees. I had attributed it to the change of scenery until last night, when I was arranging your hair and noticed a few blemishes along your hairline. I have been in service for many years, and have learned to know the signs. Shall I inform your aunt that you are indisposed today?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "I am not like some—I never keep entirely to my room, though I dare not venture far from it for two days complete. I shall write some letters, practice on the pianoforte, read, and practice my infernal French lesson. Oh!" She colored again, recalling at once that Emilie was French.

"It is all right." Emile smiled kindly. "I am in England now, and can take no offense. If you ever wish to practice your '_infernal French'_ upon me, I will oblige you with pleasure."

"Thank you." Elizabeth replied, as the abigail began to help her dress. "I always despise these quiet days, where I may not go anywhere or do what I normally do. I have always believed that if men, who do most of the inventing in this world, were forced to endure but one day of a woman's courses, there would be a thousand inventions to make it more tolerable within a fortnight!" Elizabeth laughed and added, "My father hides away in his study at such times. With a wife and five daughters, one must feel sympathetic to his plight!"

"Your father must be a saint!" Emilie giggled along with Elizabeth as she skillfully released her mistress's dark locks from the thick plait. "Well, I have a lovely bit of gossip you may be interested in hearing." Emilie skillfully ran a brush through Elizabeth's hair. "It will give you something to look forward to, and take your mind off of your present situation."

"Emilie, I can't abide gossip, although I am willing, nay, eager to hear of something I may look forward to. As it is, I have no fixed engagements until we return to Meryton for Charlotte's wedding to Mr. Collins. No fixed engagements that is, except for my lessons, and the assurance that Mr. Darcy will faithfully call on me."

"There are few women in all of England who do not envy you for that!" Emilie began arranging Elizabeth's hair, "You do have an engagement, a most coveted and delightful engagement. I heard only a few minutes ago, that an invitation to the Twelfth Night masque ball at Fitzwilliam House was delivered to the Gardiners this morning!" Emilie smiled brightly at Elizabeth in the mirror. "The theme of fairytales and fables requires only that all persons dress in the costume of an animal from one of those stories, and play that part for the whole of the evening. My poor former mistress had planned to attend as the fox from Aesop's fable."

"Twelfth Night?" Elizabeth echoed. "That is but four days away. I have nothing to wear for a masque, certainly not a costume for a ball."

"Do not make yourself anxious about that, Miss Bennet, for I know exactly what you must wear!" Emilie's eyes danced with excitement, and she clapped her hands. Elizabeth shook her head, waiting for Emilie to explain. "A swan! I heard you practicing _The Silver Swan_ with your singing master only yesterday, and it is so very beautiful, and haunting … you must perform it at the party! You shall go to the masque as the swan who was mistaken for a goose!"

"Upon my word, Emilie, what are you thinking? Would you have me exhibit before strangers so soon? Besides, that song is macabre and dreary, and I would not know how to play the role of a swan."

"That this is simplicity itself. The swan is mute until the end, when it sings, and that song is loveliness itself."

"I cannot very well go to a party and have no conversation," Elizabeth countered, "it would be uncivil, and defeat the purpose of attending such a ball: to enlarge my circle of acquaintances."

"Think upon it, Miss Bennet. Rumors of your attendance at the ball will fly soon enough, and many will attend merely to be among the first to meet you. At the masque they shall not know who they look upon, and without benefit of conversation, they cannot be certain. A masque is the one place where the requirement of introduction is utterly abandoned, so there is not even that! They will speculate, to be sure, yet, your identity shall remain a mystery, and, and you may have the advantage of roaming among society freely. You shall never have another opportunity like this one, once you are known."

"They shall see me with Mr. Darcy, Emilie, and know who I am by means of association," Elizabeth shrugged, "although it would certainly be excessively diverting to observe my future sphere with impunity … if it were not for this flaw in the plan."

"Are there not now two Mr. Darcys, and very alike? I have heard it is so. With a mask on their faces, this will certainly create confusion among the company. You shall wear an exquisite mask, of silver filigree and white ostrich feathers, and a feather cape that will hang down your back like wings. You shall look truly elegant, and though they know not who you are, they shall certainly see that you are of the first circles."

"I am _not_ of the first circles, Emilie, and I have no gown for such a costume," Elizabeth frowned. "We simply haven't the time to prepare."

"You may leave the preparations to me." Emilie finished Elizabeth's hair with a gentle twist on a curl at her hairline. "By your leave, I shall begin immediately."

Elizabeth regarded her thoughtfully and finally nodded. "Very well. I think perhaps, that you are the most persuasive lady's maid I have ever heard of, but I like that you're bold—it will teach me to know myself, as nothing else can!"

Emilie's eyes widened, and she gasped and hung her head. "I beg your pardon! It is insufferable that I should speak so freely. My former mistress … well, she often sought my opinion. It was presumptuous of me to be so forward."

Elizabeth smiled conspiratorially, "Our plotting and scheming together shall be our secret then. As long as you do not willfully lead me astray, all is forgiven. I would never venture into intrigues, of course, but my youngest sister's schemes were silly and often ridiculous, so the standard is set very low. Maintain more sense than she, and I daresay we shall get along well enough."

ooOoo

The arrival of Twelfth Night created much excitement in the Gardiner household. The children had participated in such festivities before, but never at the house of an earl, and their excitement was contagious as they raced, giggling down the stairs in their costumes.

"Oh!" cried Elizabeth clapping her hands at the sight of her young cousins, "How shall I decide who to sit by in the carriage? How am I to choose between a rabbit, a butterfly, a wolf and a turtle?"

"Me, me, pick me!" The children all cried as they jumped around Elizabeth. Ears wobbled, wings flapped, and a shell was quickly askew before Isaac interrupted, stamping his foot and crossing his arms.

"It is _not_ fair! Lizzy will be with her tall man again, and I will have to sit with stupid old Flora the butterfly!"

"Oh no, my precious, I shall ride to the ball with you, my little woodland creatures. My '_tall man,_' whose name is Mr. Darcy, will be there waiting for me. Your mama and papa will be in the other carriage." Elizabeth straightened little Simon's turtle shell. "They call this a children's ball, and there will be other children there tonight too. Shall one of you boys find the bean in the cake and be _King of the Revels_ for the night?"

"I do not like beans," Simon answered seriously.

"Perhaps your sister shall find the pea then. Would you like for Lily or Flora to be a queen?"

"No!" Simon shook his head violently. "Queens are silly!"

Elizabeth laughed. "The king and queen of the night shall not have so very much amusement or pleasure—they must sit upon a fine chair and watch everyone else dance and play games."

"I should very much like to be queen," Lily declared, "if the king is someone I like. If I do not like him and I find the pea, I shall swallow it and not tell!"

"Well," said Isaac knowingly, "the king can be anyone—even the servants shall have a piece of the Twelfth cake."

"If I am queen, I hope a footman finds the bean," Lily replied, "or a duke."

"No!" Flora protested, "Lizzy and Mistow Doesee!"

"Hurry along, children," Mrs. Gardiner called out as she entered the hallway, "your coach will be at the door in a moment! Put on your coats; the air is bitter tonight!"

"I will sit in the carriage between the first two of you who are ready to go!" Elizabeth guided them toward the servants waiting to help them. "Make haste—we do not want to be late!" The children scrambled to put on their warm outer clothes, and when they boarded the carriage, the servants tucked extra blankets around them, with hot bricks on the floor to warm the carriage. Comfortably situated, in both temperature and seating arrangements, the party was on their way to Fitzwilliam House.

ooOoo

The exterior of the house, which had seemed simply grand to Elizabeth on New Year's Eve, was an imposing edifice now, lit both within and without by candles, lamps, torches and lanterns. Strains of music could be heard as soon as the carriage came to a stop, and Elizabeth heard her cousins gasp at the sight of the house when the door was opened, with Flora declaring it to be a castle, and Lily correcting her that it was a palace.

Having disembarked from the carriage, Elizabeth and the children made their way to the entrance, but servants assigned to guide the younger set toward the activities that had been prepared for them quickly whisked the children away.

The entryway was overflowing with persons arriving for the ball, and Elizabeth, unescorted, found herself swept along with the crowd toward the ballroom as soon as her cloak was taken by the Fitzwilliam House servants. Lord and Lady Matlock were greeting their guests; but, since the point of the masquerade was to remain anonymous, the reception line moved quickly with a simple, brief welcome. Just beyond the line was the table with the Twelfth Night cake, and the line divided by gender as the females veered to the left and the males to the right to receive the piece of cake that could decree them royalty for the night.

Elizabeth paused briefly to eat the small piece of cake and handed her plate to a liveried servant as soon as she discerned that there was no pea. She then entered the ballroom essentially unescorted. She looked around for her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, who she knew to be disguised as hedgehogs. Not finding them, she scanned the room for Mr. Darcy or Colonel Fitzwilliam, wondering if they would recognize her.

Her costume, she knew, masked her identity well. Emilie had acquired a small silver-white wig, which she curled, arranged, powdered, and decorated with a tiara, ropes of tiny pearls, and flowers. This, in concert with the silver filigree mask and white ostrich feathers, imparted a majestic, ethereal appearance quite unlike Elizabeth's usual style. Emilie had encouraged her to practice wearing the wig, and Elizabeth was grateful now that she had, for although it felt strange, she wore it with ease.

The feather cape hung gracefully from her shoulders, and the simple white gown, though lightly embellished, was designed not to detract from the loveliness of Elizabeth's disguised countenance. She quickly located both Mr. Darcys on the other side of the room. Robert Darcy, costumed as a horse, was very well concealed, and her own Darcy was a stag. His brown cutaway coat and breeches combined with a white waistcoat and cravat that served nicely as the body and crest. His ornate mask was topped with an impression of antlers. Her recognition between the two masked men came largely from Darcy's bearing, and the way his eyes swept the room. She knew he was searching for her.

The only item on her person that might give her away to him was dangling from her wrist—the silver lace fan which matched her costume so well that it would not draw attention alone. Elizabeth knew that it would not take long for the others attending the ball to recognize Darcy, and that if she was with him, they would know her identity as well. Avoiding his eye, she moved behind a curtained wall that obscured his vision of her, while still allowing her an excellent view to observe the company in general, though her eyes remained mostly on him. She was soon aware of two shrill, though hushed voices on the other side of the wall.

"Perhaps she is not here. He stands alone, or I should say, they stand alone—I cannot tell which is the American."

"But what does _she_ look like? Have you any idea?"

"It may surprise you, but I do! It has required a great effort to obtain a description, but after much persistence, I found a friend whose cousin met a Miss Bennet from Hertfordshire last season. I learned much of her from this source, who I assure you, is most reliable."

"Well?"

"She is reputed to be the beauty of the county, and of a height that would look well beside him. Her golden-hair, I am told, is flaxen, and her eyes the azure blue of the Mediterranean Sea. Her features could be called classical, I hear, and so finely formed that she could well serve as the subject of the Greek statues in the museums."

"It is no wonder Mr. Darcy is violently in love with such a woman!"

"There is more. In her manners, she is all that is serene and graceful. She was described to me as truly angelic in nature, although her modesty and tranquility soon grew tiresome to those who knew her. Some might call her _dull_."

"How astonishing! I cannot believe Mr. Darcy is violently in love with such a woman!"

"We do not know that he is in love, and no one genuinely knows anything at all of _her_. I have heard it said that she is a wanton who forced a compromise. They say her father demanded an engagement to restore her reputation, and that Mr. Darcy has extended the duration in order to find a way to extract himself."

"I daresay if it is true, she has proved herself not so _very_ dull. Many have attempted precisely the same course … and failed to secure him. Indeed, Miss Bennet accomplished what none before her could."

"It is all speculation, but there can be no doubt that she is a woman of no fortune and no connections of merit. Why, no one had ever even heard of her! It required a scandalous degree of investigation to discover the little that I know. I am of the opinion that either he was forced by compromise, _or_ he is truly in love. We all know him to be above the company in nearly every situation, and most certainly so in Hertfordshire. As I ponder it, I cannot allow that Mr. Darcy would permit himself to be in love with one so decidedly beneath him. _Compromise_ is the only _possible_ explanation."

"I think you must be right."

Elizabeth had raised her fan, fluttering it rapidly to hide the color in her cheeks and to cool the anger that swelled within her. She located her aunt and uncle on the other side of the room, grateful that their costumes were easily recognized. With her head erect, she wound her way through the press of the crowd to unite with them. Halfway to her destination, a touch on her gloved arm halted her progress, and she turned to discover a man, elegantly dressed. Only the half-mask of a tiger's eyes disguised his face, revealing thick, sensuous lips and a marked cleft in his chin above a fastidiously tied cravat. He bowed to her, and said in a decidedly affected tone, "You appear to be warm, madam. Might I obtain some refreshment for you?"

Recalling her design to remain mute through the evening, Elizabeth could only graciously smile and nod as she considered that something to drink was precisely what she required. She stood in place, waiting for his return, fanning herself, noting that she had immediately become the source of much attention. Assuming that this was due to an elevated rank of the dandy who had offered her the drink, she now considered her disadvantage. _I am surrounded by persons who are attempting to discover me with no conception of my appearance, yet I am as blind as they are—more so, for they at least have a name, and have but one person to identify. Though I am surrounded by strangers, I shall not be intimidated_, _for I never sought their high opinion before, it cannot signify now._

The punch was in her hand in what seemed a moment, her thanks expressed with a curtsey and a nod.

"I deduce that you are a swan of the mute variety," he did not wait for a response. "How very poetic and clever of you to think of it—you are mysterious as well as beautiful, in delightful contrast to the loquacious ladies around us who would sear my ears with their chatter. Your charming silence would deter a lesser man, but I am not dismayed! I shall rather relish the challenge of discovering your identity."

Elizabeth blinked behind her mask and raised the punch to her lips.

"This is your first season in London?" Elizabeth nodded, and the victorious smile on his face revealed his pleasure in her answer. "Are you married?" Elizabeth's frown at this question, followed by a nearly indiscernible shake of her head was met with, "A single lady then and not happy to be so. Fear not, madam, the exquisite blossom is never left unplucked in the garden for long."

Elizabeth pursed her lips in frustration as the man who held her captive in conversation continued to reason, as if he were investigating a crime. "Milady is a guest at the Twelfth Night ball hosted by the Earl and Countess of Matlock, an honor generally reserved for their intimate kith and kin. Are you, in fact, a _relation_ of his lordship?"

Elizabeth hesitated, her head tipped thoughtfully before she denied it with a shake. Drawing back, he regarded her carefully. "Then I must conclude that you are an acquaintance." Her faint nod and a shrug of the shoulders left the man dissatisfied, and he glanced over her shoulder at the throng milling about the ballroom. "Are your parents among the company this evening?"

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at his increasing forwardness and was dismayed to realize that her mask concealed her expression. She tapped her left cheek with her fan, to indicate that they were not; she hoped that it also communicated her disinterestedness in his attentions. She attempted to peer past him, requiring a side step to achieve a position to see beyond him. He deliberately matched the move, and no disguise could have concealed her ire. He smiled charmingly, "Are you engaged for the first set, Miss, ah … ah … Swan?"

_How peculiar a notion this is: to dance with a man to whom I have no introduction, and who knows neither my name nor anything to do with me_. _I must give him an answer, and when I admit that I have no partner for the first, what then? Tiresome man! I cannot refuse, at the peril of forfeiting dancing for the whole of the evening. Oh, why did this man even speak to me? _

"I must inform you, my dear, of what I perceive. Behind your shining veil of filigree and feathers, your eyes flitter about the room—searching, I suppose, for an escape," he laughed. "Do not fear me! The simplest course is to succumb to the revelries of Twelfth Night, my lovely little swan. We are all incognito; there is no cause for such reluctance. We shall all be respectable in the morning."

Loud clapping emanated from the end of the ballroom, and a relieved Elizabeth turned to observe two figures ascending a platform with two ornate chairs. She could not make them out well, only that the female was disguised as a brown mouse. Lord and Lady Matlock stood behind the chairs, and as the couple were seated, Lord Matlock raised a crown over the head of the man and cried, "I give you your king for the night!" When the cheering faded, Lady Matlock did the same for the queen. More applause and cheering erupted, and a shout of "Long live the king and queen!" echoed through the room as the musicians played an interval to allow Lord and Lady Matlock to move to their places on the floor where they would open the dance as the lead couple.

As the assembly parted to make room on the floor, Elizabeth spied Mr. Darcy some distance away and took a step in his direction, but immediately felt her gloved hand grasped, as the dandy claimed her for the dance. He handed her cup to a passing servant and led Elizabeth to the floor.

A few steps into the dance, she realized that although he possessed an athletic build, there was something wrong with his leg, for he danced with a strange style that compensated for a limp. Admiration of his spirit replaced annoyance, and she smiled encouragingly at him. He spoke relentlessly throughout both dances of the set, seemingly content at the silence she had imposed on herself. He divulged to her that he had long known the Earl of Matlock, having become acquainted in the summer of his sixteenth year when he happened to travel to Derbyshire with several friends to investigate a cavern there. The evening after their explorations, they had had attended a ball at the Matlock estate, Cranmere Manor, although he had not ventured to dance. Having spoken of the long-ago dance at Cranmere, his mood became pensive, and he fell silent. Elizabeth seized upon the opportunity to study him—his appearance seemed familiar to her, although she felt certain that she had never met him before. His voice suddenly broke through her reverie again to confide in her on an entirely different subject.

"I received six and twenty separate invitations to Twelfth Night festivities this evening. Have you any idea why I chose this one—Matlock's ball?" Elizabeth shook her head, and this time, her curiosity was evident.

"_Ennui_, madam, _ennui_. I was of a mind to stay at home and disregard the bean cake altogether, for I cannot abide dancing. I learned, however, that Fitzwilliam Darcy, Matlock's nephew, was to attend and launch his betrothed into society." Elizabeth nodded, indicating that she had heard the same, so the man continued, his voice lowered, "It is commonly known that she is a country maiden of little consequence, and I was seized by the wildest curiosity. I knew Darcy briefly, you see, at Cambridge, and I simply cannot reconcile myself to the rumors. I have, from the very moment I met him, possessed an absolute certainty that Darcy would marry _very_ well, perhaps a lady of elevated rank, but most certainly a woman possessed of a sizeable fortune and of the finest breeding. Are you acquainted with Matlock's nephew, Mr. Darcy?"

Elizabeth affirmed that she was, and he inquired, "Do you not agree that Mr. Darcy, a handsome and eligible single man, in possession of a vast fortune and estate, would obtain the hand of nearly any unmarried maiden in the kingdom with certain ease?" She raised her chin and gave a curt nod in response. He laughed, as though he perceived that her own heart had ventured to aspire to the match. "Oh dear, I have wounded your pride! Yet, I confess that this is the true reason for my presence tonight. Romance and feelings of a tender nature are my study, you see, for as you must know, I am a poet. Some have said that poetry is the food of love, but they are wrong; I declare that love is the food of poetry instead. I am determined to discover the woman who has inspired the staid and prideful Mr. Darcy to abandon the hardened principles of a lifetime, to marry not for duty and honor, but for love."

_Who is this man? Does he speak for himself alone or are there others present tonight only to catch a glimpse of me? I had hoped to enter this society quietly, with some degree of dignity, but it may be impossible. _Elizabeth turned lightly on her toes as she moved to the outside of the figure, bringing her near the spectators who lined the dance floor. _Upon my word, they are all watching us! Do they all know that I am the country maid they have come to scorn, or is it my partner who has captured their attention? _Elizabeth crossed over to the other side of the floor, and observed the same intense scrutiny in the onlookers there. The absurdity of her situation overtook her, and, from her throat, there burst forth a tinkling laugh. A feeling of lightnesswashed over her, and she smiled at her partner mischievously as they crossed paths again. _You have already discovered her, sir, and you know it not. _

"My silent swan, you are enchanting," he whispered as their hands grasped. "The set is nearly over, and we shall soon part ways, so I must ask you…" the dance separated them, and Elizabeth did not hear the rest of his question, but when she looked up, she saw Mr. Darcy, standing stiffly at the edge of the floor. He was watching her, expressionless, beneath his mask. Her partner came around again, and finished, "…I must ask you, are you at all acquainted with Mr. Darcy's betrothed?"

When he asked it, Elizabeth nearly laughed again and glanced over her shoulder. Her partner's gaze followed hers, and at the sight of Darcy standing there, he chuckled. "Speak of the devil! That great, tall stag looming behind you, it must be the very man himself. Impeccable dresser, Darcy. I do believe he has tracked our progress for the better part of the set…."

The music concluded and Darcy stepped onto the dance floor before Elizabeth's partner could escort her away. He approached the couple, and bowed. "Lord Byron," he said with cold civility, "I had not expected to see you here, sir … is the palace not more to your taste for a ball?"

"Oh no, I find the society of the palace somewhat confined and unvarying of late. The names change, to be sure, but they are all the same—the same opinions, the same conversation—it is frightfully tedious to endure such company when there is a superior variety to be found elsewhere." Byron scanned the room. "Lady Matlock's invitation to this ball was heaven sent. When I heard that you were engaged to be married, and to one who has never been seen in society before, well, I felt compelled to attend and make the acquaintance of the future Mrs. Darcy."

"I see," Darcy nodded. "May I inquire … how do you propose to accomplish this at a masquerade?" He did not look at Elizabeth.

"You are not inclined to make the introduction?" Byron smiled languidly. "I am disappointed but not surprised. Actually, I had hoped to persuade this lady," he gestured at Elizabeth, "to be my guide."

Darcy glanced at Elizabeth with no suggestion of emotion, "What is your success?"

"Alas, she is mute," Byron said, "and I suspect headstrong as well. 'Tis a pity, lovely creature that she is; she did not strike me as having a naturally cooperative nature."

Elizabeth noisily blew a puff of air, and Darcy could not fully suppress a smile. "Lord Byron, may I introduce you to Miss Elizabeth Bennet, my betrothed? Miss Bennet, Lord Byron."

Elizabeth curtseyed and temporarily suspended her silence. "Lord Byron, it is an honor to make your acquaintance."

Byron exclaimed, "Do not tell me that I have been dancing with the famous Miss Bennet!" He clapped his hands, and added, "How extraordinary that I should happen upon the very lady I had hoped to meet this night, and in a crush such as this!"

"Extraordinary indeed," Darcy replied coolly. "Excuse me." He made a cursory bow, took Elizabeth's hand and wrapped it around his arm with contained calmness.

She bobbed another curtsey to her former dance partner. "I thank you, My Lord, for the dance." Together, Darcy and Elizabeth quit the dance floor.

Although Elizabeth had entertained hopes of sustaining her anonymity for most of the evening, it was not to be, for Lord Byron divulged the triumph of his discovery to one or two of his closest acquaintances. Well pleased with the information, they confided her identity to _their_ closest acquaintances with alacrity. It was less than an hour before it was general knowledge, although each considered _their_ knowledge of the secret to hold some exclusivity. Their frustration, however, was great, for having neither heard her voice, nor seen her face, they were limited primarily to the observation of her considerable grace on the dance floor. Her costume, they allowed, was elegant, and her poise and posture could not be faulted, yet every attempt was made to discover a cause for contempt nonetheless. Elizabeth, far from succumbing to intimidation from their close examination, simply ignored it, having already determined that Darcy's good opinion was all she cared for.

As a dance partner, she was popular, whether this was due to curiosity or admiration, she could not discern. With each gentleman, she carefully maintained her silence, reserving her replies to shakes and nods of her head. The occasional signal of her fan was employed to clarify and give variety to her responses. The ladies who remained wanting for a partner lined the floor, entertaining themselves chiefly with finding fault with the future Mrs. Darcy, although they owned amongst themselves that she appeared to be lively and clever, even without conversation.

It was with a sense of relief that she danced with Darcy for the supper set. Her previous partners had spent their time attempting to lure her to speak; Darcy reveled in her silence, taking the opportunity to hold her hand and gaze at her longer than he ought.

Afterward, she sat, as she had at Netherfield, between Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam whilst they dined. The colonel, who had elected to appear as a monkey, spent the better part of the dinner hour in a futile attempt to trick Elizabeth into speaking. Unsuccessful from the outset, he declared that since Elizabeth clung so resolutely to her swan persona, he would do likewise, and thus interwove the occasional burst of monkey chatter into his address. His teasing put Elizabeth at ease, and neither Elizabeth nor the colonel noticed the frown on Darcy's face as he observed their playful exchange of words for smiles.

The post-dinner performances were generally capital, much finer than those Elizabeth was accustomed to in Hertfordshire. Not wishing to invite humiliation, she initially declined to exhibit when Lady Matlock called on her to play and sing as the final performance before the dancing resumed, but Darcy took her hand and proudly led her to the pianoforte, leaving Elizabeth no opportunity to gracefully evade the opportunity.

Her singing master, upon learning that she was to attempt a solo performance following an evening of silence, had instructed her to quietly hum when she could, to keep her voice ready for the difficult piece. Elizabeth had followed his advice, and sat down on the stool without visible trepidation.

She began to play, and sang in a crystalline soprano voice,

The silver swan, who, living, had no note,

when Death approached, unlocked her silent throat.

Leaning her breast upon the reedy shore,

thus sang her first and last, and sang no more:

"Farewell, all joys! O Death, come close mine eyes!

More geese than swans now live, more fools than wise."

When she had finished, the room was still, and Elizabeth sat motionless on the stool with her back to the room for several seconds, wondering if she would be met with applause or scorn when she turned. As she was coming around to face the assembly, the voice of Lady Catherine urgently cut through the silence. "Where is Anne? It is above an hour since I have seen her, and I have thoroughly searched every room in the house! She has disappeared, and yet you all sit around, stupidly amazed at the croaking of this ridiculous chit!" She stood imperiously before them, staring as if she could see through their masks into their very souls. "Tell me at once where she is!" she demanded as the guests all looked about as if to discover her among their number. "It is certain that at least one among you knows something. She was most attractively costumed as a field mouse; surely someone has seen her!"

Silence fell upon the room, for none present had any idea of what had become of Anne de Bourgh.


	7. The Disappearance of Anne de Bourgh

**A/N** - As always, a huge thanks to my Betas, Betty, Stephanie, Gayle and Kris. Another thanks goes to those of you who reviewed the last chapter - it is always such a delight to get those reviews! I am hoping that some of you were among the tens of thousands of people who downloaded **One Thread Pulled** on the 14th and 15th, since my FFN friends are one of the primary reasons for that promotion. Just a reminder, the end of the last chapter, Elizabeth had danced with Lord Byron, and after dinner, she sang. Lady Catherine ruined her big moment.

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**Chapter 7 – The Disappearance of Anne de Bourgh**

The magical atmosphere of Twelfth Night had transformed into an otherworldly sphere when Elizabeth Bennet performed. The soft candlelight cast pools of light and shadow throughout the room, and the eyes of the guests glittered like dark jewels behind the partial concealment of their masks.

Her tone was clear and pure, not affected by a heavy vibrato or pretension of superiority; the sweet sound fell upon the ears of all who were present with such gentleness that they could not help but envision the tragedy of the dying swan and mourn silently in their hearts. A strange pleasure it was too, for to openly engage in sentimentality would bring derision in society, but to be moved so by a beautiful voice could bring no censure. Many an eye glittered with tears behind the mask as Elizabeth sang, and appreciative applause for the performance was delayed only because no one wished to break the spell as the last note resonated in the air.

When Lady Catherine de Bourgh so rudely robbed Elizabeth of her adulation, a few ladies of the _ton_ were delighted, but most of the room was aghast—some at Anne's disappearance, others at the insult to Elizabeth.

Colonel Fitzwilliam sprang to action after Lady Catherine's outburst, loudly reassuring his aunt that, in all probability, Anne had gone somewhere within the house to rest. He pressed Lord and Lady Matlock to return the guests to the ballroom and resume the dancing, and he waited patiently while the revelers filed out of the music room. Many graciously murmured their compliments to Elizabeth for her performance as they passed.

When the room was drained of the majority of its occupants, six persons remained: Georgiana, Elizabeth, Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam, Lady Catherine, and the masked King of Revels.

"Why do you remain?" Darcy bristled and challenged the king, who was outfitted as a lion and still wore the crown placed on his head earlier that night by Lord Matlock. "Return to the party with the others."

"Let him stay," the colonel interjected. "He may have information we need to find Anne."

"You are wasting time, fools!" Lady Catherine shouted and waved her hand. "Search the house immediately."

"Did you not say that you had performed a search already?" Darcy asked his aunt and not waiting for an answer, turned to the colonel. "Why should this man know anything about it? What has he to do with it?"

"Because Anne was the queen," Elizabeth said, glancing at the king, "and the royal couple are to remain together for the whole of the evening. They were seated together at supper, but, curiously, he entered the music room alone. I wondered at that."

The king raised his hand and removed his mask, eliciting a gasp from Lady Catherine. "You!" she cried. "This is insupportable! How is it that _you_ are here, in this house, and seated beside _my_ daughter as her king?"

"I must take the blame … or, rather, the credit for that," Colonel Fitzwilliam said unapologetically. "Anne applied for my assistance in bringing him here tonight, but ensuring that Mr. Fellows received the bean and Anne, the pea—that was entirely my own idea." The colonel clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels as he continued explaining, "Anne discovered that he was in London and confided in me her desire to see him. She did not wish to act in defiance of you, so I arranged it all. Anne did not even know Mr. Fellows would be in attendance at tonight's ball, let alone seated next to her on the king's throne."

"Fitzwilliam, this is an outrage! Your interference is unpardonable!" Lady Catherine bellowed at her nephew and then turned to Mr. Fellows. "I told you to stay away from _my daughter_! It is too much, too much to be borne that you should disregard my wishes in such a way."

"I mean no disrespect, your ladyship, when I point out that Miss de Bourgh is well beyond the age of consent and may see whomever she wishes." Mr. Fellows bowed graciously to Lady Catherine. "You are full aware that I have long desired to court your daughter. I remain here among this party due to my _own_ concerns regarding her whereabouts." He looked directly at the colonel and continued. "A few moments prior to the conclusion of the meal, a footman presented Miss de Bourgh with a note on a silver salver. Upon reading it, she informed me that her mother had summoned her to the library. She said that the note did not state the reason, but she expected it was some trivial matter and that she would return with haste. She did not return."

"I did send for her," Lady Catherine sniffed indignantly, and, ignoring Mr. Fellows, spoke to Darcy. "The reason a mother calls for her daughter is none of your concern, so do not think to prevail upon me for justification. It is a private matter."

"You, my dear aunt, have certainly made it our concern," Darcy answered. "In loudly proclaiming that Anne has disappeared in such a way, before all of London society, you have exposed our entire family to the potential of great scandal. Even if she is now found merely resting in a room, the manner in which you declared her gone has laid a foundation for rumour such as this family has not seen in a generation, at least."

"That is a fine charge, coming from _you_, Nephew. With your disgraceful engagement to Miss Bennet, you have already tainted the reputation of our family—first, with your denial of the longstanding engagement to your cousin Anne, followed by your shameful alliance to a woman of no breeding or consequence."

Georgiana instinctively wrapped her arm through Elizabeth's elbow and whispered, "Do no listen to my aunt, Miss Bennet; she does not speak for all of us." Elizabeth patted Georgiana's hand to reassure her.

"We must locate Anne, and provided that she is well, see to it that she makes an appearance before night's end," Darcy said calmly. "Fitzwilliam, check the library. If she is not there, confirm that she is not mingling among the other guests. Georgiana, please take Miss Bennet with you and see if Anne has retired to rest in one of the guest chambers. If she is not found in the rooms, inquire of the housekeeper if she has any idea of her whereabouts. If anyone discovers any information, send a servant to find me—we will meet in the library in fifteen minutes regardless. Mr. Fellows, I beg you return to the festivities and resume your role as king. I know it shall be difficult, but you must do your best to appear unconcerned. I daresay Miss de Bourgh's reputation may yet be preserved." Darcy nodded to dismiss them and when they were gone, he turned to Lady Catherine. In the distance, the sound of dance music resumed.

"You and I shall walk the rest of the house together in search of Anne," Darcy set his hand gently on his aunt's shoulder.

"Upon what basis do _you_ presume to order _me_ about?" Lady Catherine said scornfully, shaking his hand off her shoulder with a jerk.

"You know the house far better than I—you lived here as a child—and just a moment ago you insisted that we must search the house for her. Your knowledge—"

"I have already searched the house! I informed you of that already. She is not here. You must contact Bow Street immediately."

"You may have missed her, Aunt Catherine; surely that is a possibility. Let us not be too hasty—"

"Too hasty, you say! Your dearest cousin is missing, possibly kidnapped or eloped, and I am too hasty?" Lady Catherine glared at her nephew. "You have taken leave of your senses, abandoned duty, honor and loyalty to your family. You have been blinded by Miss Bennet! If _she _were missing, would heaven or earth stand in your way? Of course not. You would overturn everything to find her! But you have no concern for your own cousin!" Lady Catherine glared with steely eyes at Darcy, even as she dabbed a handkerchief at the corner of her dry eye.

"Let us not waste further time debating but begin our canvass of the house immediately," Darcy said resolutely. "If we are fortunate, she will still be within the house." He took his aunt by the arm to guide her.

"She is certainly still in the house." Lord Matlock's voice came from the entryway, and he entered, closing the door firmly behind himself. "Her cloak has not been taken, and the servants at every exit have assured me that she has not departed. If my sister is too feeble to endure the exertion of—"

"Nonsense!" Lady Catherine objected. "I am not infirm; I am just determined."

"Determined? Whatever do you mean, Catherine?" Matlock's eyes narrowed.

"She is found!" Colonel Fitzwilliam burst into the music room, reporting to Darcy, ignoring his aunt and uncle. "She was _locked_ in the library! She was tricked into going there, as was your cousin, Robert Darcy! They were trapped in the room together for nigh upon an hour. Anne was waiting for her mother when Robert Darcy entered the library in response to a note he had received from a footman while dining. As soon as he passed through the threshold, the door was shut and locked behind them."

"What?" Darcy exclaimed in astonishment. Lady Catherine sank into a chair silently, smiling, with her lips pressed together. "Aunt Catherine, have you nothing to say?" Darcy inquired with some suspicion.

Catherine meticulously smoothed out the fabric of her gown before she glanced upward at her nephew. "Anne was alone in a room with Robert Darcy for an hour? There is nothing to be done but schedule their wedding."

"What?" Darcy, Fitzwilliam and Matlock cried in unison.

"Anne must marry Robert Darcy," Lady Catherine said with satisfaction, now arranging the folds of her dress as though the conversation were an imposition. "It is the only way to preserve her reputation now. If we inform the other guests that he merely sought a private audience to propose to her, there will be no scandal. Engaged on Twelfth Night! Anne shall be the first match of the season. What a triumph!"

"Aunt Catherine!" Colonel Fitzwilliam scolded. "You cannot be serious! She was in no way compromised! When I entered the room—you left the key in the keyhole—they were conversing, but quite far apart. We can claim that Anne had merely retired to a bedchamber to rest. No one need know they were even together. I am utterly certain that Robert does not wish to marry Anne!"

"Do you accuse _me_ of locking them in that room, Fitzwilliam?" Lady Catherine frowned.

"That is of no matter, since they were _never_ actually alone together. Do you hear me? They were _not_ alone in the library." The colonel shook his head fiercely. "I shall produce a servant who will swear to it."

"Fine." Lady Catherine rose from her chair. "It is only a matter of time before he compromises her again, and then it will not be so easy to deny."

"Why, Catherine? Why would you do this?" Lord Matlock blocked her way.

"Because," Catherine said coldly, "Robert Darcy is the true and lawful heir of Pemberley—we shall challenge the will and prove it in the law. He will be restored to his rightful place soon enough, and Anne shall be his wife, the mistress of Pemberley at last. My nephew," she looked at Darcy scornfully, "will rue the day he rejected my daughter in favor of that impertinent Miss Bennet."

"Have you discussed any of this with Anne?" Darcy inquired coldly.

"Why would I do such a thing and imperil the opportunity? I know what is best for Anne—she will do as I say," Lady Catherine said imperiously.

"Robert Darcy, does he know aught of this plan?"

"How can he know? He only just compromised her this night!" Lady Catherine huffed.

"He did not compromise her." Colonel Fitzwilliam stepped forward and spoke firmly. "Do not repeat that lie again, Aunt, if you wish the family to preserve Anne's reputation and yours."

"Edward!" Lady Catherine sputtered, appealing to Lord Matlock. "Control your son. I shall not tolerate being spoken to thus!"

"My son is an officer, a colonel in His Majesty's Army. If he says that nothing happened to Anne, I am relieved, and so should you be." Matlock glared at his sister.

A knock was heard at the door, and after a slight pause, Robert Darcy entered. "I beg your pardon for my intrusion, but it has been several minutes now since Miss de Bourgh returned to the ball in company with Miss Darcy and Miss Bennet. I had hoped to do the same with my cousin and the good colonel … for the sake of appearance."

"Go." Lady Catherine fluttered her fingers dismissively at her nephews.

The three men left the music room and proceeded directly to the ballroom. Upon entering, they could see Anne seated on her opulent throne on the far side of the ballroom, in animated conversation with the man they now knew to be Mr. Fellows. Darcy quickly summarized the history of Mr. Fellows and Anne for Robert's benefit.

Mr. Fellows, he informed his cousin, had been a country squire with a modest estate in Kent, who had had come to an understanding with Miss de Bourgh some ten years previous. Lady Catherine did not approve of Mr. Fellows as a suitable husband for Anne and had taken drastic measures to sever the attachment by falsely announcing a prior engagement between her daughter Anne and himself. Mr. Fellows, believing the lie, had soon after married a woman of fortune who bore him three children at the eventual cost of her own life, leaving him a widower with a substantial estate. He had returned to renew his addresses to Anne several months past but had been rebuffed by Lady Catherine as yet still unsuitable for her daughter. Anne's feelings for Mr. Fellows had not changed, and she had hoped to persuade her mother to allow the courtship to proceed in due course.

"A false engagement to me was the obstacle to Mr. Fellows' suit a decade ago," Darcy sighed, "and it appears that my aunt would impose on you in the same manner now. Lady Catherine wishes to force you to marry my cousin."

Robert frowned. "Does she like her daughter so little that she wishes her away to America?"

Darcy shook his head. "She would have you stay in England."

"My father warned me of her fondness for directing the lives of those around her, but I confess that I did not anticipate receiving such attentions from her myself. Why would she wish her daughter married to me? She knows nothing of me. It is absurd."

Darcy looked at Robert with chagrin over the position they found themselves in. _He might as well know. Lady Catherine will approach him with her design before long._ "It is true that she does not know you; however, she knows your lineage and is of the belief that you, not I, are legally entitled to inherit the Darcy lands and fortune. She covets Pemberley and wishes to see her daughter installed as mistress there."

Robert laughed in amusement, nodding toward the platform where Anne was enthroned. "What interesting relatives you have, Darcy. I confess to being utterly and completely mystified by such an idea. Look at her. America is not a place for such a fragile creature—our women must rely on the strength of a robust constitution." He nodded again at the platform as a woman in white bowed and conversed animatedly with Anne and Mr. Fellows. "A lady such as your Miss Bennet would fare well in America, but Miss de Bourgh? I am not convinced that she would even survive crossing the ocean."

Darcy agreed. "My cousin suffered a fever some ten years ago from which she never truly recovered—she has been frail and sickly from that day. An ocean crossing would indeed prove more than she could endure."

"I have no intention to remain in England once the conflict is over." Robert's attention was fixed on Elizabeth and Anne across the room, and he shook his head emphatically. "Is Lady Catherine correct about the inheritance?"

Darcy looked sharply at Robert and, after a moment's hesitation, answered, "No, she is not. Our grandfather made no provision for your father or you in his will. He believed your father dead, of course, and had no knowledge of your existence. I suspect this is the premise for Lady Catherine's idea of a legal challenge to the will. She is likely unaware that there is a precisely worded exclusion, probably inserted to prevent George Wickham from attempting a claim. My own father's will was similarly explicit."

"It seems a dreadful shame to disappoint your aunt." Robert tipped his head to the side, affecting a lopsided grin. "Her sour expression would have me believe that she enjoys so little pleasure in life. What would Lady Catherine's response be if I did court Anne, with a declared intention to return to America with her by my side?"

Darcy tried not to laugh at the mental image created by the question. "She would enthusiastically encourage the match, opposing any departure from the country with equal vigor, even as she pursued legal redress of the Darcy inheritance. I daresay, she would be in her element in an occupation such as you propose."

"I spoke with Miss de Bourgh at length during our entrapment in the library." Robert's eyes shifted to Mr. Fellows. "She believes herself very much in love with that gentleman beside her. In fact, he proposed to her this very night as they reigned over the ball before supper. Being past the age of consent, she felt free to accept him, although she knew it was in defiance of her mother's wishes. She was beside herself with dismay when the library door locked behind me. She was convinced that we would be discovered, confined in a room together, and thus compromised, would be forced into marriage at the peril of both of our reputations. I told her that Americans are not nearly so barbaric as the English when it comes to such things."

Darcy's lips pressed together. "My cousin Anne knows her mother well. We were successful in averting disaster tonight, but Lady Catherine has already set upon precisely the course Anne feared. She is likely already assuring herself that your time together in the library has secured some peculiar sort of engagement which only requires a formal declaration to make official."

"I see two paths forward," Robert said. "Either Miss de Bourgh immediately announces her engagement to Mr. Fellows and they face whatever sort of wrath her mother unleashes, or…"

"Or what?" Darcy scowled, impatient for an alternative.

"...or I feign a courtship with her while Mr. Fellows secretly makes arrangements to marry her."

"A secret engagement?" Darcy's eyes widened. "No! Such deception would be insupportable."

"You are correct in that, I suppose." Robert sighed. "What will happen if we simply do nothing?"

Darcy could barely suppress a snort. "I imagine that Lady Catherine will do to you as she has done to me these ten years: promote the idea of an engagement to you with excessive vigor."

"Such would divert her attention for a time…." Robert raised his hand to his lips. "If Mr. Fellows were to proceed in arranging a wedding during that interval, it is none of my concern. I am not engaged to Miss de Bourgh, after all, so his interest in her is truly of no consequence to me. I am, of course, delighted to make the acquaintance of a cousin to my cousin and, therefore, nearly my own relation. There can be no harm that I detect in furthering the acquaintance. None at all."

"You will certainly incur her mother's wrath if she recognizes your scheme," Darcy cautioned.

"What scheme?" Robert smiled at Darcy. "I shall be as a pawn to Lady Catherine. I cannot be accused of scheming and neither can you, if we do not interfere with her plan."

"Her plan is for you to marry her daughter," Darcy informed him with a chuckle.

"Precisely so. I understand that she is a woman who is not to be gainsaid," Robert smiled, "so she shall receive no opposition from me in furthering her plot, except that I shall, of course, fail to propose in the end. What Mr. Fellows does with the opportunity is his own affair."

"Anne is not capable of such disguise," Darcy said, glancing at his cousin.

"Then we shall not inform her. Her words and actions cannot be shaded by what she does not know," Robert pondered for a moment and continued, "I must insist that you speak to no one of what we have discussed. I shall provide Mr. Fellows with a hint and no more. What is done by others must be by their inclination and not influenced by either of us."

Darcy hesitated. _Yet another secret I must keep from Elizabeth_. He nodded and said with some reluctance, "I will honor your wish. Your privacy in this matter is assured."

"Complete secrecy," Robert emphasized, "requires keeping Colonel Fitzwilliam, Miss Bennet and Miss Darcy uninformed as well as Anne de Bourgh. It may prove difficult."

Darcy shifted uncomfortably and, peering through the eyehole of his mask, replied, "You have my word. Let us speak no more of it."

"Agreed. I should much rather dance. I am not one to stand stupidly about at a ball, not when there are so many ladies desiring a partner. Have you not noticed the change in the countenance of a woman when she is asked to dance? This effect is particularly profound when, having been passed over by other men, she gives some consequence to her reply, as though one fears she might decline. No lady wishes to believe she was chosen out of charity; she would far prefer to be desirable."

"You remind me of someone I know," Darcy said with a slight smile. "He found an angel at a ball and married her."

"Well, that is very encouraging." Robert's gaze passed over the crowd. "Where did you meet Miss Bennet?"

"At a ball," Darcy replied and hastily added, "although we did not dance."

"I must allow your betrothed to be an excellent dancer—so graceful and effortless. She puts many of the titled ladies in the room to shame tonight. Have you engaged her for another dance?"

"The last set," Darcy said with a sigh. "I would have her for my partner every dance if I could, but, as you know, society allows but two. Civilization has unhappily cursed us with ridiculous restrictions in this. If we were but savages, we could dance with whomever we chose the whole of the evening."

Robert laughed. "In America, the savages do not dance with women at all, unless they dance for rain. Excuse me, I believe I shall engage Miss Bennet for the next, since this will not infringe on your own dance with her later in the evening." He walked away with a pleasant smile on his lips.

Darcy's fists clenched unconsciously as he watched Robert cross the room and approach Elizabeth. Although he had watched her dance with a number of others in the course of the evening, the smile that graced her lips as she accepted his invitation to take the floor inexplicably stung. He watched the couple as they conversed in that moment, and he realized with some chagrin that her performance in the music room had marked the end of her silence. He imagined he could hear her tinkling laugh above the din as she tipped her head and spoke; her words, he observed, were witty enough to invoke a shoulder-shaking chuckle from his cousin. The musicians signaled the beginning of the next set, and the simple act of Elizabeth placing her gloved hand in his as he led her to their position stirred an emotion in him that only deepened when she curtseyed in Robert's direction as the first movement of the dance began.

His vantage point was ideal, and he watched them, his eyes following Elizabeth's every movement, unaware of the ladies who had come to stand near him, until their voices, raised in order to hear one another over the music, broke through his reverie.

"You are right, I believe," tittered a skunk, who had evidently found the punch bowl irresistible. "We had ought to at least profess to like her."

"She is likely to be in attendance at the best balls," sighed a robin as she preened the red-feather bodice of her costume, "which is so unfair, considering what we know of her family. How she ever managed to make an impression on the redoubtable Mr. Darcy is a mystery to me. It is shocking beyond words. I heard from his own aunt that the whole affair is suspect, and that the entire family disapproves most heartily."

"Ah, well, tis a shame to see such a fine man fall into the clutches of a predatory female. One can see well enough how she did it; no man can resist such an air of mystery as we have seen tonight. My own brother is half in love with her."

"I thought for a moment tonight that I was dancing with Mr. Darcy; soon, however, I discovered that my partner was not he, but his American cousin." The robin pointed to Robert. "He may serve as a pleasant diversion for the season. He was utterly charming and ever so amiable. His stature seems equal to that of Mr. Darcy. A woman could easily fall in love with him."

"Yes," said the skunk, "even Miss Bennet seems to be quite taken with him." She pointed to Elizabeth, who was in lively conversation with Robert as they danced. "Perhaps she will regret accepting Mr. Darcy so soon. Perhaps he will regret waiting so long for the wedding."

Darcy could listen no longer, and he retreated from the ballroom to the library, where he would wait in solitude for the last dance of the evening.


	8. Epiphany

**A/N** - I know that it has been a much longer wait for this update than predicted. Due to family circumstances, I had to put my writing on the back-burner for a few months. I appreciate your patience in waiting while I took care of the people I love. I am committed to writing this sequel, and hope to see the momentum pick back up again in the coming weeks and months. A huge thank you to my Beta team, Betty, Kris, Steph and Gayle. - AA

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**Chapter Eight – Epiphany**

The soft crackle of the small fire burning in the fireplace stirred Elizabeth from a deep sleep. It was still dark, and knowing that her aunt, uncle and cousins would remain abed for some hours yet, she turned over in a vain attempt to reclaim slumber as her mind swirled with recollections from the ball that would not be suppressed in spite of the short night.

As the Twelfth Night hours had passed, Elizabeth gradually realized that demand for her as a dance partner was due less to admiration than to curiosity. The questions came, veiled in civility, leaving her in no doubt of society's focused determination to strip away her veneer of confidence and test her mettle.

One man, whose costume was as ambiguous as it was elegant, inquired relentlessly about her relations. Elizabeth smiled in the darkness, recalling that conversation in particular.

"_Your father, I am told, is a gentleman of some property," he had sniffed, looking down at her over an enormous, frilly cravat. "Pray enlighten me on the magnitude of his estate. Is he a man of consequence?"_

"_Why yes," Elizabeth had nodded graciously, "your information is correct; I believe that my father's lands are among the finest in our neighbourhood. As to any specificity related to the vastness of his property, I am unable to answer you with precision, sir. Should I attempt to describe the grandeur of Longbourn as I perceive it, you may accuse me of being boastful, and rightfully so. I love the estate most fiercely. Perhaps if you addressed the question to Mr. Darcy, he would gratify your curiosity with an objective opinion."_

"_Perhaps," the man had frowned, glancing nervously about before he queried in nasal tones. "What of your mother? What are her connections?"_

_Elizabeth had smiled patiently at him, as the figures of the dance now temporarily separated them. She considered the purpose behind the question, and when she returned to her partner, she addressed it. "My mother," she had said brightly, "Mrs. Francis Bennet, nee Gardiner, made quite an impression on Mr. Darcy when he was lately in Hertfordshire."_

_She had turned away, dancing lightly on her feet as her gloved hand grasped that of the gentleman in the progressing couple, resuming the conversation once restored to her own partner. "My mother's brother, Mr. Edward Gardiner, has become a great __favourite__ of Mr. Darcy. I have wondered at times if my betrothed is not so fond of my mother's relations as he is of me!" She had laughed gaily, "My aunt and uncle happen to be here as guests of Lord Matlock tonight. Perhaps you have met them. They are disguised as hedgehogs, but I am certain his lordship would be pleased to provide an introduction, should you venture to ask for it."_

The inquest would have undoubtedly continued had the dance not concluded at that moment, and the second dance, to Elizabeth's profound relief, was a fast-paced reel. When the set was complete, her heart fluttered with the knowledge that the last dances were now upon her. Several searches over the past few hours had determined that Mr. Darcy was not to be seen in the ballroom, and she experienced a pang of concern that he would not reappear for their dances, the final set of the night.

Now, in this dim pre-dawn hour, she quietly re-lived the moment of his appearance to claim her for the dance, and Elizabeth was astonished to realize the ever-growing extent of her attachment to Mr. Darcy. Her heart quickened with the memory, and she rested her hand on her breast as she conjured first the music and then the man in her mind.

_With his left hand lightly on her back as his right hand clasped hers, he guided her to the floor, and the first strains of the music had begun, obligating them to honour one another with a curtsey and bow. Several minutes of speechless dancing passed before Elizabeth finally teased, "Mr. Darcy, I do believe that at least a few words must pass between us, lest those who study our every step conclude that we disdain each other."_

"_My dear Miss Bennet, such a conclusion is not possible." Darcy shook his head solemnly._

"_Not possible?" Elizabeth feigned disagreement. "But of course it is possible for such a determination to occur when two persons—who are supposed to be madly in love—do not speak to each other after having been separated nearly the whole of the evening."_

"_Your concern is understandable, of course, since you cannot have known that my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam has most industriously circulated his certain knowledge of my utter adoration of you among the guests." A muscle twitched in his cheek, nearly pulling his lips into a half-smile._

"_Oh." Elizabeth cocked her head to the side, considering the information. "That was truly most obliging of him, but I fear that many still harbour suspicion that my attachment to you is mercenary. Why, I have overheard more than one person speculate that very idea tonight."_

"_I cannot deny that some in this assembly own this ridiculous belief. You may, therefore, take some comfort in learning that my cousin Anne and my sister have taken no small delight in telling anyone who will listen how diligently I was forced to pursue your affections and that it was only through great persistence that I overcame your objections to a match between us."_

_Elizabeth laughed, "I am now well assured that your cousins and sister are determined to promote me in this society, yet you have granted no assurance of your own desire to do so." _

_Darcy looked thoughtful then, pausing long before he replied with earnest sincerity, "You are perfectly right, of course. I have not the talent of conversing with those who are not my intimate friends; yet, I have, on numerous occasions, witnessed your own remarkable abilities in this regard. I failed to recognize your need for such a recommendation, which I see now was an insupportable error on my part. If I must make an excuse, it would be that surely my offer of marriage is a profound signal of my esteem. It was a foolish mistake, however, made due to a faulty assumption on my part. If my conduct has in any way made you uncomfortable, please accept my deepest apologies."_

"_Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth chided in mock severity, "this will not do! I was in no way seeking your 'deepest apologies', no indeed! I was striving to provoke you into yet another declaration of your ardent love for me! It is beyond selfish, I know; however, I find that I like it very much indeed when you do it. Your disapproval over this small vanity would be a great disappointment, yet I am willing to risk it in spite of myself … on the slim chance that I may triumph instead. Now that you know of my scheme, despise me if you dare!" She laughed and fluttered her fan and watched with satisfaction as he gave a slight shake of his head, even as color tinged his cheeks._

_At that very moment in the dance, they passed each other with what should have been the barest touch of their gloved hands, yet he had clasped hers tightly, the sensation of his grip lingering long after he had released her hand. Elizabeth smiled to herself, wondering if Mr. Darcy's hand had tingled the way hers had at that moment. _

It was during this pleasant state of reverie that Elizabeth was quite suddenly restored to the present by the sound of Emilie at her dressing table assembling the pots for Elizabeth's morning toilette.

"Whatever are you doing here, Emilie?" Elizabeth muttered from her bed. "It is too early."

"I beg your pardon, Miss Bennet. I wished to be prepared to attend you as soon as you desire it, knowing the importance of the day."

"To what do you refer?" Elizabeth propped herself up on her elbows. "Today is Twelfth Day, so there shall be no lessons or fittings this morning. I shall, of course, attend the Epiphany church service with my aunt and uncle later in the day, but that is yet hours away."

"My sincerest apologies," Emilie curtseyed and began backing out of the room, "I had naturally thought that you would wish to appear your very best today, for Mr. Darcy's sake."

Elizabeth sat the rest of the way up. "I have no expectation of seeing Mr. Darcy today, Emilie. Indeed, he said nothing of calling at all when we spoke last evening." She lay back down on her pillow and sighed. "I am not certain in the least of when I shall next be in company with him. I did not think to ask."

Emilie hesitated and spoke cautiously, "It shall most decidedly be today, mademoiselle."

"How could you possibly know such a thing, Emilie?"

"Trust me in this, madam. He shall call for you at an early hour, in hopes to persuade you to attend the Epiphany service at Saint George's with him, after which he will likely take you to Fitzwilliam house for a grand luncheon."

"It is a lovely speculation, but we have made no plans…,"

"Do you have any other engagement today?" Emilie said knowingly. "After your introduction to society last night, it will be expected that you shall be seen out with Mr. Darcy today, and since no masks are worn, it is your first outing together where the future Mrs. Darcy shall be truly seen. Come, we must make you beautiful!"

"I do hope you are right, Emile. You may light the candles." Elizabeth got out of bed and stretched. "I would dearly love to see Mr. Darcy's face again today—it was exceedingly difficult to discern his opinion of anything last night, for both of our faces were concealed, and we truly had very little conversation between us for most of the evening. I had greatly anticipated the ball but found it wanting in the end."

"Your song—it went well, no?"

Elizabeth laughed. "Perhaps next time, I shall not sing a song that ends in a tragic death, for such was a portend of the fate of my recital! The conclusion of my performance was illuminated by a most spectacular and peculiar interruption on the part of Mr. Darcy's aunt, Lady Catherine. My father has oft accused my sisters of being the silliest females in England, but, I daresay, Lady Catherine de Bourgh put on a display last night that rivals the antics even of my sister Lydia."

ooOoo

Following her toilette, which she admitted silently to her reflection had produced a happy result, Elizabeth excused Emilie and retrieved her small stack of letters from Jane. In the soft morning light, she moved to the window and re-read Jane's most recent missive.

_My dearest Lizzy,_

_Since my last letter, Charles and I have continued our travels along the coast, which has proven to be rather quiet and romantic. We have stopped at Ramsgate, Dover, Eastbourne and Brighton thus far. The roads have been surprisingly good for winter, and we have encountered no significant delays, which is a great relief. We arrived yesterday on the Isle of Wight, where we have planned to visit with the Hursts and Caroline. Charles was most anxious to discern the current state of his sister's illness and see whether circumstances would allow him to bring his other sister, Annabelle, to join them there for their mutual convalescence and recovery._

_What we discovered upon our arrival has been nothing short of astonishing. Nearly the moment we entered the house, Caroline, who at first seemed no different to me from when I first knew her, began speaking of none other than Mr. Darcy! He had, she was quite delighted to tell us, followed her there, and spent two-weeks in the __neighbourhood__ at Christmas. She was firm in her belief that an offer of marriage from him was expected upon his return. As you may imagine, Charles was greatly alarmed, but then Mr. Hurst stepped forward and confirmed all she said, that Mr. Darcy had truly been there and Caroline had indeed seen him. He disagreed only with the expectation of a proposal._

_My husband had barely overcome his amazement, when Mr. Hurst informed him that the Mr. Darcy they spoke of was, in spite of looking a great deal like their friend, a different man altogether. Caroline would hear none of Mr. Hurst's arguments but insisted that it was indeed the same man. She even spoke of riding in Mr. Darcy's fine carriage to a Christmas dinner at a nearby estate, which she cited as proof of her claim. _

_Seeing my distress, Louisa took me aside and brought me into her confidence, explaining that the Mr. Darcy we know apparently has a cousin from America. As we were thus in conversation, Caroline inquired regarding my presence there, and when Charles informed her that I am now Mrs. Bingley, I came to realize that I had truly misjudged her opinion of me. She was greatly disturbed and spoke with no kindness toward the match. We departed shortly thereafter to spend the night at an inn, for Charles could not bear to see her treat me with derision and would not subject me to remaining in the same household. We promised to return today, and I am determined to mend our friendship. It must have brought Caroline no small degree of pain to learn that she was not present for our marriage ceremony, and I am certain that in obtaining her forgiveness, we may set ourselves right once more. I will naturally exercise caution, for I have not forgotten that she is not entirely well. In spite of all that has happened, I dearly hope that we shall forge some mutual regard as sisters. Louisa has been most kind, and Charles and I are of the belief that the Hursts shall help us to overcome Caroline's unhappy opinion. _

_As you may well imagine, we thought it best not to disturb Caroline's fragile state with news of your betrothal to Mr. Darcy. I very nearly had to pinch Kitty to stop her from speaking of it. I will seek an opportune moment to do so prior to your nuptials next summer._

_Kitty is enjoying every moment of the journey thus far, taking much pleasure in the sights we have seen. Mr. Bingley has been most solicitous of our comfort, and I find it curious to observe that she reminds me less of Lydia every day. Even Mr. Bingley has taken note of the change in her behaviour, which is more refined and demure than was her manner in Hertfordshire. This has resulted in the admiration of several young gentlemen at the balls we have attended. She has informed me that she prefers these attentions to those of the officers she was so recently enamored with in Meryton, which I know will please you, Lizzy, although I fear Lydia shall be disappointed when Kitty returns home so altered._

_We shall remain here on this Isle for two weeks, longer if Charles sends for Annabelle. I dearly hope that your letters to me shall catch up, for I have had but one letter from you thus far, and I am so very curious about your time in London. Are my Aunt and Uncle well? Do you still tease my little cousins to make them laugh? How is your debut going? Is it all that you had hoped it to be? Do write soon, Lizzy, and share all the news from London._

_With warm affection,_

_Mrs. Jane Bingley_

Elizabeth spent the next hour composing a long letter to Jane, with a lively report on the Twelfth Night Ball, which was sure to entertain her sister. A similar letter to her father followed. Particular attention was given to anything that had seemed ridiculous in that society to which she had been introduced. Once she was assured of her father's good spirits from the early contents of her letter, she added a plea that he consent to an earlier marriage date, assuring him that she knew her own mind and that this was, indeed, the desire of her heart.

A letter to her mother was enclosed within, the back of the page consisting of letters to Mary and Lydia, cross-written so that each sister had her own direction. In this way, Lydia could not complain that Mary's letter was longer nor gloat that it was shorter.

ooOoo

Elizabeth had just finished her breakfast when a servant brought her a note that had been received at the door, informing her that the footman who had delivered it was awaiting her reply. She recognized the elegant hand of her betrothed on the front and, breaking the seal, eagerly opened it. As Emilie had predicted, Mr. Darcy desired to call at the Gardiners' house and hoped that Elizabeth would accompany him and his sister to a special event, which he did not name.

"Oh, dear!" Elizabeth exclaimed upon reading the invitation aloud to her aunt. "I know that you and my uncle are engaged for the Epiphany service at your church today. What am I to do for a chaperone?"

Mrs. Gardiner smiled fondly at her niece. "Mr. Darcy's sister has a companion, does she not? You may tell Mr. Darcy that although it is not possible for me to serve as your chaperone today, if Mrs. Annesley is attending Miss Darcy, and she agrees to watch over you as well, you may go on your outing. Of course, as her master, Mr. Darcy's approval must also be obtained, but I suspect that is not likely to be an obstacle. The presence of Mrs. Annesley shall, without a doubt, provide sufficient respectability to your party."

The reply was made, and less than an hour later, Elizabeth was handed into Darcy's carriage, dressed in an elegant ensemble of entirely new clothing. Georgiana greeted Elizabeth joyously, and Mrs. Annesley greeted her with warmth as well. Darcy shifted to the rear-facing position, leaving a warm seat beside Georgiana for Elizabeth. When she was settled, he tapped the roof of the carriage, and they began to move.

"Are we away to St. Georges?" Elizabeth ventured after a few moments of watching Georgiana and Darcy smiling knowingly at one another. "Emilie said that is where you would attend the Epiphany service today. Not knowing the address of Darcy House, I could only suppose that she was correct. I have never been there before."

"St. Georges or Darcy House?" Darcy queried with a smile.

Georgiana giggled shyly, "Brother, do stop teasing Miss Bennet. You _must_ tell her where we are going, lest I burst from excitement!"

Darcy nodded indulgently at her and replied, "Georgiana, would you like to do it?"

Georgiana smiled and nodded and patted Elizabeth's knee. "We have received an invitation to Whitehall Chapel! The prince himself shall conduct the Epiphany ceremony, and we shall be there!"

"Whitehall?" Elizabeth cried out in astonishment and some confusion, "How can this be? Did your uncle arrange this? I suppose as a peer…,"

"No!" Georgiana interrupted excitedly. "It was not our uncle, but our cousin Robert Darcy who obtained the invitation on our behalf!"

"Is this true?" Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief.

"It is indeed true," Darcy nodded. "My cousin was personally invited to the ceremony by his host, Speaker Abbot. Robert declined, saying that he wished to spend the day with his newly discovered family, and the speaker generously offered to allow us to join them. We are to meet Robert at Whitehall and a guard shall escort us to the door."

"A guard?"

"We shall be within the chapel at the Banqueting House and witness to the royal ceremonies and service. The guard is to ensure that none enter who do not belong within."

"What ceremony shall the Prince Regent perform?" Georgiana nearly whispered and, then, paled, grasped at her throat and gasped, "I have never been near royalty before. What I am to do?"

"Do not worry yourself unduly," Darcy reassured her. "It shall not be in any way similar to a presentation at court. You shall not have to _do_ anything except behave with decorum. Pertaining to your first question, the ceremony performed by the sovereign of England, which I have witnessed once before, is a celebration of our Lord's presentation to the Gentile nations. It used to be that the king offered a byzant, or wedge of gold, but now when the king performs the ceremony at the altar, the offering is five guineas."

"That hardly seems enough," Georgiana pouted. "It should be ten at least."

"There is more, little one," Darcy addressed Georgiana, but looked to Elizabeth as he spoke. "It is then that the Lord Chamberlain steps forward and presents a finely carved box containing three silk purses. Can you guess what is in them?"

Georgiana shrugged her shoulders impatiently. "I cannot guess, Brother. Will you not tell me?"

"Miss Bennet, would you like to guess?" Darcy invited her with great warmth.

"There can only be one correct answer," Elizabeth smiled at Georgiana. "Georgiana is right—five guineas is surely not enough of an offering for the King of Kings. One of the purses must therefore contain a greater measure of gold. Am I correct?"

"I would have been disappointed if you were not," Darcy affirmed. "The first purse contains the purest leaf-gold the king can procure. Would you care to speculate on the contents of the other two purses?"

"Speculate?" Elizabeth replied confidently, "I have no need to speculate. Frankincense and myrrh, Mr. Darcy, are the only possible answers."

"Oh!" Georgiana exclaimed, "I should have guessed that if I had thought on it long enough, of course I would, since on the twelfth day we always honor the three Magi who brought gifts to the Lord. Miss Elizabeth, you are terribly clever to have thought of it so quickly. What happens next? Is the ceremony then over?"

"The prince shall declare to the assembly that the gifts of the magi and his offering of gold are consecrated to the church to bless the poor. Some monks shall silently enter and take the box and the coins away. Then there will be a sermon given on the shedding of the blood of the innocents as decreed by Herod. It could be very short, or it may last a very long time. One never knows until one sees who is giving the sermon."

"It always makes me weep, thinking of all those babies murdered in their mothers' arms." Georgiana sniffled.

"One _must not cry at Whitehall_," Mrs. Annesley patted Georgiana's knee, "but if the water springs from your eyes unbidden, I pray you use a handkerchief and make no sound."

Wide-eyed, Georgiana nodded, and the party was silent and introspective until the coach stopped and they were let out. Robert Darcy awaited them, and they were escorted, silently and reverently, to the doors. From there they walked to the midpoint of the great chapel, and a man whom Elizabeth presumed to be Speaker Abbot, beckoned them into a pew. Following softly spoken introductions, they were quickly settled, and Darcy first gained her attention, then pointed upward. Elizabeth tipped her head back and softly gasped at the sight of the exquisite painting on the ceiling. She studied it carefully for some time and then whispered to Darcy, "It is Rubens, is it not?"

Darcy nodded and looked at her in that way she had come to treasure, with a faint smile and sparkling eyes. In correctly identifying the artist, she knew she had pleased him. She would inform him later that there was a rendition of the work in one of her father's books, and she supposed that he would then commend her on the knowledge she had acquired through extensive reading.

The book had also depicted the architecture of the chapel; yet, to sit within the chamber with its expansive windows, velvet draperies, gilded Roman details and exquisite paintings overhead, left Elizabeth in awe. She had not imagined that she would attend such a service in such a place today, and she watched cautiously as the occupants of the pews around them arrived. It was immediately evident that the majority of those in attendance were of the first circles and titled. The fineness of their clothing and jewelry vouched for their wealth, and they wore superiority on their faces as well as any accessory.

If Elizabeth had harboured concerns that her attendance would attract attention, they were dispelled with rapidity. The persons in the surrounding pews seemed to barely glance their way, and if their gaze lingered on their party, it was upon Darcy and his cousin, not upon the ladies who accompanied them.

ooOoo

After the service, Elizabeth was allowing herself to deliberate on what the rest of the day might bring when the other attendees of the service descended on them in droves, surrounding their little party, acknowledging either Speaker Abbot or Darcy by name, pausing for the requisite introductions. Elizabeth marveled at their quick discernment between Robert and Darcy, for not one person mistook the American for his English cousin. She observed their manners with fascination as precedence drove the sequence of introductions. Her mother, in spite of many other failures in her education, had been quite thorough in training her daughters to perform the rituals of social introductions with perfection, and Elizabeth was perfectly at ease in making the acquaintance of the nobility who deigned to approach them.

She quickly realized, however, that Georgiana was completely overwhelmed. At the first broken stutter, Elizabeth turned to see her, drained of color and trembling uncontrollably. Mrs. Annesley was supporting her by one elbow to prevent her from falling to the ground in abject fear.

Darcy had clearly not anticipated the situation, having attended church services together with his sister many times. He realized too late that Georgiana, not yet out, was ill-equipped to face such an onslaught of society. Elizabeth, with a grace she did not fully feel, completed the restrained curtsey and greeting due the countess to whom she had just been introduced and moved effortlessly to Georgiana's other side, linking arms with her.

"All will be well," she whispered so softly that only Georgiana could hear. "There is nothing to fear."

Georgiana, eyes wide with fright, attempted a courageous smile, watching as Darcy engaged in conversation with a baronet and introduced him to Robert. Elizabeth continued to whisper courage to her, "Miss Darcy, do not be unsettled! This man is no better than you or I; he is as much a mortal as we are and not nearly so handsome as you."

Georgiana's trembling lessened, and, following the introduction by her brother, she managed to squeak out, "I … I … I … am pleased to m-m-m-meet you, S-s-s-sir Humphrey."

"Sir Humphrey," Elizabeth successfully diverted the man's attention, "I believe I heard Mr. Darcy say that you are from Kent. I hope to visit there in the coming year. Pray, have you any advice on the best months for such a trip? I would like to see that county at its finest."

From there, Elizabeth inquired about his manor and discovered that he was fond of cards and fishing. She also learned that he provided a home for his mother and four sisters, which Elizabeth commended wholeheartedly. Concluding the conversation, Elizabeth wished him well and turned back to Georgiana, who, though still shaking, was no longer in imminent danger of falling.

As Sir Humphrey walked away, Elizabeth giggled in Georgiana's ear and patted her arm reassuringly, "Did you not enjoy that? Have you ever seen a more dandy fellow? I fear my father would not have a high opinion of him—he sports far too much lace for a man—that is what _he_ would say, and my dear papa considers the use of a quizzing glass to be perhaps the most ridiculous affectation he ever beheld, but I liked Sir Humphrey well enough. What is your opinion?"

Georgiana curiously turned and watched the departing Sir Humphrey, who, as if on cue, turned around and held the glass up to peer at them through it. A faint smile flickered across her lips, and some colour returned to her face as she nodded, "I also liked him, and I am ever so glad that my brother does not wear as much lace as he."

"I agree with all my heart, Georgiana. If your brother wore as much lace as Sir Humphrey, my father would have no conversation with him, and my mother would certainly dominate his ear. I imagine that your brother would not enjoy such a turn! Let us hope that abundant lace does not return to men of fashion before the wedding!"

Georgiana laughed a heartier laugh than had broken through her lips in many a year, silencing herself quickly when the sound echoed in the chapel, although her delight at what Elizabeth had said produced a loud sigh. "Now, take a deep breath," Elizabeth advised kindly as they turned, arm in arm, to face the next introduction together. "I find that sufficient breath is distinctly to one's advantage when facing the paragons of society."

ooOoo

The carriage rocked and swayed as the party of four rode in silence. Elizabeth stared out the window at the city streets, apparently deep in thought. Darcy watched her, mesmerized by the expression on her face, unaware that his sister was, likewise, observing him. Mrs. Annesley appeared to be gazing out of the window on the other side of the carriage, although she was, in fact, quietly assessing Georgiana's reaction to the morning's events.

After ten minutes of no conversation among them, Elizabeth finally turned away from the window and said to Darcy, "I find that I am a little hungry and very much looking forward to today's luncheon. How long is the drive to Fitzwilliam House from here?"

Georgiana looked quizzically at her brother and back to Elizabeth, excitedly responding before Darcy could speak, "I thought you knew, Miss Bennet! We are taking you to Darcy House today for luncheon."

Elizabeth's eyes widened as she looked at Darcy, who nodded lazily at her, his pleasant and relaxed expression giving nothing away of what was in his heart, for he was, in reality, quite overcome with anticipation of the moment when the future Mrs. Darcy would first cross the threshold of his home. "Georgiana is correct. Indeed, we are very nearly to Darcy House now."

Elizabeth gasped involuntarily. "Mr. Darcy, I have greatly anticipated this day, yet now that the moment is here, I find myself feeling quite unprepared for it."

"Unprepared?" Darcy shook his head, not comprehending her dismay. "This requires no preparation on your part."

"You are wrong!" Elizabeth said emphatically, "I always believe in first impressions, and now I am to meet the staff of this household, and I have made no effort to discover anything about them."

Darcy frowned, "It is not to you to impress _them_, but rather, they must impress _you_."

"Servants talk among themselves, however—"

"Miss Bennet, if I may say something," Mrs. Annesley interrupted, "I may be able to alleviate your concern." When Elizabeth nodded, Georgiana's companion continued. "Most of Mr. Darcy's household staff were at Fitzwilliam House last night for the Twelfth Night ball, either as guests or assisting the Fitzwilliam servants. They all knew who you were within moments, although you could never have known who they were. I am afraid this will not be their first impression of you. I am not usually one to gossip, but you might wish to know that the talk in the kitchen this morning was favourable toward you, and now it is their turn for that first impression. I am quite certain they shall withstand your scrutiny."

"Oh." Elizabeth sighed and smiled uncertainly toward Darcy. "It seems that my worry about this moment was for naught. It is just as well, for after making the acquaintance of so many persons of your society today at Whitehall, I am relieved to discover that I need not make a conquest of your servants after all."

Darcy chuckled, "I knew, of course, that we would encounter some persons of the _ton_ at Whitehall, but I supposed that more would remain at their country houses until after the holidays were concluded. Most who attended today have returned to London early for the assembly of Parliament. You did quite well, my dear, with the introductions. They found you charming."

"I shall be content with 'charming,' for I always told Jane that with no dowries or connections, we truly have nothing but our charms to recommend us," Elizabeth said, too brightly.

Darcy frowned, and Georgiana cried out, "Miss Elizabeth, you must not speak so! My brother," she stopped and looked at Darcy fiercely, "my brother _loves_ you!"

Darcy looked cautiously between the two before he replied, "You are both correct. Georgiana, you speak truth, I do love Miss Bennet, and no want of dowry or connection shall threaten my attachment or admiration of her now. As for you, Miss Bennet," he spoke her name with the softness of a caress, "do not underestimate the power of your considerable charms. You shall no doubt enchant all who come to know you, and they shall be bewitched by your spell, as am I."

Elizabeth could make no reply, for the carriage came to a stop, and within a few seconds, the door was opened by a footman. Deprived of her retort, she puckered her lips and said, "You _shall pay_ for that speech at a later time, Mr. Darcy, I promise."

"I look forward to it with anticipation, my dear," Mr. Darcy replied soberly.

Elizabeth arched her brow and, with a wry smile, disembarked the carriage, while Georgiana looked on with confusion. "Is she angry at you, Brother?"

Darcy shook his head with an expression that echoed Elizabeth's. "No, Georgiana, that is not anger. It is charm."

ooOoo

As the party approached the doors of the house, Darcy offered his arm, and Elizabeth entered the house at his side. She did not anticipate the sight of the household staff formally lined up in the entry hall to greet them, and, for a fleeting moment, her astonishment left her speechless. _Only the most important guests are thus received! _Elizabeth glanced upward at Darcy, to discover his tender gaze intently focused on her face before he turned to face the staff.

"Mr. West, Mrs. Cooke, I am pleased to present your future mistress, Miss Elizabeth Bennet." Elizabeth nodded with a gracious smile in response to their bows and curtseys. "She is my betrothed, and as such, I fully expect that she shall be treated with the utmost respect and deference, as if she had already taken my name. Whatever she speaks shall be done without hesitation or denial by this staff."

"Very good, sir." Mr. West acknowledged the directive with a bow.

"I assure you that these instructions shall be carefully observed," Mrs. Cooke replied to Darcy, before turning to Elizabeth, welcoming her and prompting the maids to help Elizabeth, Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley shed their outerwear.

Nearly the moment their pelisses were off, Georgiana became uncharacteristically animated, her eyes wide with excitement. She took Elizabeth's hand as she turned to face Darcy and breathed, "My dear Brother, the moment we have waited for has finally come!" She closed her eyes and sighed. "It is really true, is it not? I shall have a sister, and you shall have a wife! Come, Miss Elizabeth," she tugged on Elizabeth's hand, drawing her deeper into the entry, "please permit us to show you the house! I have feared that I would be forced to serve as hostess here someday, but now that you are here, the duty shall fall to you, and I shall be spared!"

Elizabeth laughed delightedly. "Georgiana, it is too soon! Indeed, _you_ are still hostess today! I am not Mrs. Darcy yet, nor shall I be so for another five months complete. I would not presume to rob you of your rightful role as your brother's hostess in this, the home you share with him. You, my dear sister-to-be, shall pour the tea today, and we shall hear nothing more of it. You shall practice on your brother and Mrs. Annesley and me—we are certainly nothing to fear, are we, Mr. Darcy?"

"No, indeed we are not."

Georgiana frowned, "But Cousin Robert shall be here too, and Colonel Fitzwilliam. It is too much, Miss Elizabeth! Won't you please consider it, just for today?" She turned to Darcy, "Oh, Brother, would you not prefer Miss Elizabeth serve today? Can you not importune her to do it?"

Elizabeth's brows had raised slightly, her eyes set on Darcy to hear his answer. "Georgiana," Darcy replied kindly, "it is a matter of duty for the lady of the house to take the role, and today, that is you. I know you are not accustomed to it, but you must become so."

"I do not see why, Brother," Georgiana said with a quivering voice. "Miss Bingley was always happy enough to pour the tea, and she was not the lady of the house. She was but Mr. Bingley's sister."

"Yes, that is true," Darcy conceded, "but you were younger then, and Miss Bingley offered to do so willingly. Miss Bennet has expressed no such desire."

Georgiana's eyes widened, and wringing her hands, she turned to Elizabeth, "I beg you! Do not refuse me!"

"Upon my word," Elizabeth said sweetly, "this is certainly a dilemma! Miss Darcy, you are, by right and position, hostess in this house until I am married to your brother. There is nothing to be done about that; however, if you were to prevail upon me to pour the tea, after your guests are assembled and properly greeted by Mr. Darcy, I do believe I would be obliged to accept your invitation."

"Oh!" Georgiana cried out in relief, "that is simply perfect, Miss Elizabeth! Brother, she is terribly clever, is she not?"

"She is resourceful indeed," Darcy acknowledged. "We must think of some suitable way to express our thanks to Miss Bennet for taking pity on your situation."

Elizabeth could not reply, for Georgiana had her by the hand, eagerly leading her deeper into Darcy House. Darcy and Mrs. Annesley followed behind, and, although Elizabeth shot occasional glances over her shoulder at Darcy, she was attentive to Georgiana, admiring the architecture, décor and tastefulness of the dwelling with enthusiasm.

Had she been aware of how closely Mr. Darcy observed her reactions and the pleasure he took in hearing her opinions of the house, she may have felt some perturbation, but as it was, Elizabeth's delight in the house was undisturbed by the scrutiny of its master. His mind, however, was increasingly engaged in thoughts of the coming day when Elizabeth would walk the halls of his houses as mistress. The excursion was nearing its conclusion when the butler quietly informed him that luncheon would be served in half an hour.

"Georgiana," Darcy interrupted his sister, who was gushing about Hyde Park in the spring, "I believe there is sufficient time to include a tour of the stables. They are not so extensive as those at Pemberley, but I am most eager to introduce Miss Bennet to a certain sweet-tempered mare and establish the date when she shall begin her riding lessons."

"Oh!" Elizabeth exclaimed softly, "Mr. Darcy, as delighted as I am at the prospect, you must see that I am not appropriately attired today to walk around the stables. Surely such an outing may wait until I am wearing something suitable."

Georgiana looked at Elizabeth with delight and asked, "Do you ride?" Elizabeth shook her head, and Georgiana, frowning, turned to Darcy. "Which mare, Brother?"

"Frieda. She is older and docile," Darcy replied assuredly. "She will give Miss Bennet no trouble."

"This will not do!" Georgiana clicked her tongue and sighed. "Frieda does not give _you_ trouble. She is docile, it is true, yet she is stubborn and willful if the reins are held by an inexperienced rider. You must put her on Esther."

"Esther?" Darcy shook his head. "No, she is too spirited."

Georgiana turned away from Darcy and smiled broadly at Elizabeth. "Esther has a smooth gait that makes one feel perfectly safe, and, with a firm hand, she is as obedient a mount as one could ask for. She is accustomed to my side-saddles, and we are of a similar height, are we not?"

Elizabeth nodded in agreement and quickly asked, "But is Esther your mount? Will I be taking away your favourite?"

Georgiana shook her head emphatically, "You must not think so! I can ride any of the mares in the stables—I wish for you to learn on Esther—she is best for you, I am sure of it!"

A loud knock on the front door of the house interrupted their conversation, and, upon hearing familiar voices in the entry, Darcy abandoned the idea of visiting the stables in favour of receiving their guests instead.

ooOoo

Settled in the drawing room, Elizabeth was prepared to greet Colonel Fitzwilliam and Robert Darcy, since Georgiana had mentioned that they were expected, but accompanying the Colonel instead, were Anne de Bourgh and her companion.

Georgiana's alarm was discernible, as she looked anxiously past the arriving party. "Where is my aunt?"

"She is not here," Colonel Fitzwilliam said with a smile. "Do you wish me to fetch her?"

"Oh, no—do not do that!" Georgiana shook her head, "However did you steal Anne away from her?"

"One does not steal from Lady Catherine," the colonel said solemnly. "One must trick her."

"Cousin Richard!" Anne scolded.

"It is truth," he replied, with evident amusement. "I merely told her that I was to enjoy luncheon with my cousins at Darcy House and looked forward with anticipation to furthering my acquaintance with Robert Darcy. Aunt Catherine immediately insisted that Anne accompany me. I could not bear to disappoint her and granted her request."

"Where is Cousin Robert?" Georgiana asked. "I had thought he would be with you."

"The Yank? He is presumably en route. It is most convenient that he possesses a carriage. He readily agreed to transport our other guest and has saved me the trouble of going out of my way. It is just as well; my cousin's neighbours will not even notice the arrival of a Darcy carriage at this house, and it would not do to raise speculation in this case."

"There is another guest?" Georgiana gulped. "I beg you tell me; who else is coming?"

"Why, yes, there is another," the colonel replied, his eyes dancing with mischief. "He is a fine fellow indeed, seeking a wife amongst the daughters of London society."

"But I am not yet out," Georgiana paled and pleaded softly to her brother. "Surely you do not wish me to marry so soon … do you wish me out of the house?"

Darcy crossed the room and embraced his sister, glaring at Fitzwilliam over her shoulder. "Do not fret; he is not coming for you, Georgiana. Richard is teasing."

The door to the drawing room opened, and a faint gasp was heard from Anne de Bourgh when Mr. Robert Darcy and Mr. John Fellows were announced.


	9. The Source of Discomfort and Serenity

**A/N -** Please take a moment to give a round of applause to my wonderful beta-readers. Kris, Betty, Steph and Gayle are pretty much rock stars.

At the request of an early reviewer, I've added a brief summary of "the story up to now" to jog the memory of readers.

Elizabeth is in London, living with her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner to fulfill her father's requirement that she spend a season in London before marrying Darcy. She is blissfully unaware of her father's condition that she must actually like the society her marriage will put her in or he will withdraw his consent. She is fully aware however, that her expensive new wardrobe, lady's maid and other expenses are secretly being paid for by Darcy, and not her uncle or father. She has taken it on herself to become more educated during this period - a surprise for Darcy. Complicating the social situation is the appearance of Robert Darcy - a previously unknown cousin from America, who looks remarkably like Darcy, and cannot return to America due to the conflict we know as The War of 1812. Lady C. has remained in town with Anne, hoping to capture Robert Darcy as the consolation husband for her daughter. Anne in the meantime, has her eyes on Mr Fellows. Jane and Bingley are on their honeymoon with Kitty along as a companion for Jane, and they have reached the Isle of Wight to visit Caroline and the Hursts who have gone there in hopes of improving Caroline's mental state. Unfortunately, Robert Darcy had been there during the Christmas holiday, and Caroline is under the delusion that Darcy had followed her there.

Being January, the season has not yet gotten into full swing, but Elizabeth made her debut appearance in society at the Twelfth Night Masque Ball with the follow-up appearance at the Epiphany services at Whitehall and her introduction to Darcy House. Chapter 9 finds Elizabeth back at Gardiner House.

Now, on with the story!

* * *

**Chapter 9 – The Source of Discomfort and Serenity**

"How I wish that you had been there, Aunt Gardiner! I may well describe the day to you, but it is not the same as if you had seen it for yourself." Elizabeth sighed as she removed her outerwear.

"It was a disappointment for me as well, yet I daresay that if you tell me every detail, I may be consoled. Before we talk, however, you may wish to read this letter that arrived today. It is from your father." Mrs Gardiner pressed it into her hand.

"How strange it is that he, of all people, would post a letter so quickly." Elizabeth examined the exterior, stroking the edge curiously. "I have not yet been in London a fortnight, and my father is never diligent in correspondence—even in matters of urgency. I cannot imagine what might compel him to pick up a pen! It cannot be a reply to my letter—there has not been sufficient time. I do hope that my mother is well."

"She was in excellent health when we were last in Meryton, excepting her nerves, perhaps, which seemed to improve after Jane's wedding. I am sure there is no cause for alarm."

"I believe I shall take it to my room to read it. If you do not mind waiting for our talk, we can speak of today's events in the morning."

Mrs Gardiner kissed her niece on the cheek, "Of course, my dear. Go read your letter, and we shall speak tomorrow. Good-night."

ooOoo

"Whitehall was magnificent, of course," Elizabeth began, "and the Twelfth Day ceremonies were delightful in every way. I had never actually _seen_ the Prince Regent before, and I confess to observing that 'Prinny' suits him as a name very well indeed. I daresay that my father would have made great sport of the man, for I do believe that there was not an inch of his person that was not decorated with a bit of lace or trim or a shiny button. It was truly ridiculous."

Mrs Gardiner frowned, "Your father's mockery does him no credit, Elizabeth. When our minds venture to the derision of our neighbours, our manners will eventually reveal our contempt, in spite of our effort to conceal it. Civility cannot long mask disdain."

Elizabeth sighed and poured a cup of tea. "That is true, Aunt, and for my father's sake, I wish it were not so. I was awake much of the night, pondering the question of my father's opinion of Mr Darcy. The letter, you see…"

"Oh, yes, the letter!" Mrs Gardiner set her cup aside. "Pray tell me, what does your father say?"

"He gave me much to think about, Aunt, but I do not wish to discuss what my father wrote to me, at least not yet. It was most distressing, and I feel a need to reflect on what he disclosed to me before I speak. I shall confide it all to you very soon."

"I am sorry, dear; I did not mean to pry. Do continue with what you were saying. You mentioned the Prince."

"Oh, yes, and many nobles were there as well. There was not an empty seat to be seen in the hall, and each person was dressed, it seemed, more elegantly than the last. Poor Miss Darcy was nearly overcome by the grandeur of it all."

"And what of my niece?" Mrs Gardiner teased.

"_Your niece_ was astonished to discover herself quite serene in the face of such splendour. I admit, there was a moment when I felt myself almost shrink under the scrutiny of a rather imperious duchess, but I looked up at Mr Darcy in that instant, and the warmth in his eyes calmed me, and the swelling in my breast restored my resolve. From that moment forward, nothing could intimidate me, and I enjoyed the event very much indeed." Elizabeth turned her attention to her cup, sipping cautiously on the barely-cooled tea.

"I know you well enough to believe that your courage would have risen regardless of the warmth in the eyes of your betrothed, but it is truly remarkable to see that look on the face of a man, is it not?" Mrs Gardiner paused for the flush of pleasure that coloured Elizabeth's face and the accompanying nod of agreement. "Such love as you have found shall give you power to endure the scrutiny of any number of lords and ladies, my dear, for the truest love enables us to bear that which is unbearable, and suffer those who are insufferable. What of the luncheon at Fitzwilliam House?"

"We did not join Mr Darcy's relations at Fitzwilliam House, but went instead to Darcy House for refreshment." Elizabeth smiled at her aunt's reaction. "I see that this revelation has surprised you, as it did me! Imagine for a moment, finding myself—with almost no warning—on the threshold of the London household where I shall someday be mistress!"

"Miss Darcy and Mrs Annesley remained with you for the duration?"

"Oh, yes, the utmost attention was paid to propriety, as promised. We were in company the entire time. We were joined by Mr Darcy's cousins: Colonel Fitzwilliam, Miss de Bourgh and Robert Darcy. There was one other in the party as well."

"Not Lady Catherine?"

"No, indeed. It was rather shocking for poor Miss de Bourgh, for her mother had falsely informed her that Mr Fellows had returned to Kent on urgent business after the ball, and dear, dear Anne had done nothing but fret about the highwaymen and the hazardous winter roads through the night. When Robert Darcy arrived with _Mr Fellows_ at his side, it was all Miss de Bourgh could do not to throw herself into his arms from sheer relief!"

"How did Lady Catherine arrive at the belief that Mr Fellows had departed London, Lizzy?"

"Well, that is a question, is it not? His concerns are surely not hers. It is certain he would not confide in her. I daresay she is too proud to lie, but from what I know of her, she bears no scruples that would prevent her from _driving_ him away. We shall likely never know. Enough about Lady Catherine, however—I would not waste my breath on her when there is so much more to tell."

"Oh?" Mrs Gardiner's brows rose with curiosity. "There is yet more to tell?"

"Do not fear, Aunt. There is nothing scandalous, I assure you. Miss Darcy, who had expressed some trepidation over serving as her brother's hostess, managed to perform the duties beautifully with the barest hint of encouragement, and Colonel Fitzwilliam kept us well entertained with astonishing tales of his military bravado, which I suspect were embellished in the telling."

Mrs Gardiner nodded, "Such is the way of military men, my dear. I am certain that Miss Darcy was most grateful for your encouragement. What of Mr Darcy? Was he pleased to show you the house?"

"Mr Darcy was in all ways such a gracious host that I cannot help but wonder at the low opinion I held of him when first we met. His pride and arrogant behaviour at the Assembly Ball caused me to adopt an instant dislike of him at the time. I ponder now on what I perceived of him then, for now I know him to be the best of men, which gives me pause. Can what I see in him of late possibly be true, or am I somehow blinded to his faults by my ever-growing love? Is it rational to think that a man can change so completely? My greatest fear is that I do not truly know him, that I love a man whom I have imagined to be better than he is."

"It is not like you to doubt your measure of a person, Lizzy. What raises these questions now?"

Elizabeth sipped again on her cup and, with some degree of hesitation, admitted, "I cannot be certain about the true source of my discomfort, although I first became aware of it yesterday when we had a quiet moment of conversation. He earnestly inquired after my opinion of the society we had encountered at the Twelfth Night ball and at Whitehall. At first, I avoided giving him my answer, for, in truth, there were but few I encountered whom I liked at all. Their air of superiority was exceedingly difficult to bear, and I was very happy to be away from them by the end of the night. When he pressed the question, I answered him truthfully, but my candour appeared to unsettle him. His demeanour became grave, and his reserve increased until we sat together silently, neither of us giving voice to our thoughts and feelings. For my part, I did not wish to further upset him. Just when I thought I must say _something_, he suddenly excused himself and, in great haste, he quit the room. He did not return for nearly half an hour."

"Oh, Lizzy, how very distressing that must have been." Aunt Gardiner patted Elizabeth's hand sympathetically.

"Not so _very_ distressing. Nearly the moment he vacated the seat beside me, his cousin, Robert Darcy, occupied it. We spoke at length of his time in England, particularly his impressions of Derbyshire and Hampshire. He spoke charmingly of his new friends in Parliament, and he told me somewhat of his home in America. I was immensely diverted when he mentioned his acquaintance with the Hursts and Caroline Bingley, and I acknowledged having met them in Hertfordshire. It took only a few moments of conversation before he suddenly declared, 'It has occurred to me that _you_ are none other than Miss _Eliza_ Bennet!' This realization appeared to ignite his interest in discussing my encounters with Miss Bingley, and he shared a few humorous tales of his own. I was so enjoying the conversation that I was unaware of the passage of time until I glanced at the clock when Mr Darcy returned to the room."

"What is your opinion of Mr Darcy's American relation?"

"I like him very much indeed. He is amiable, like Mr Bingley, and his conversation is intelligent and informed. I cannot abide gossip, so it is to his credit that he did not portray Caroline Bingley unfavourably, nor did he invite criticism from me. It is true that he is in appearance similar to Mr Darcy, yet his manner is quite different. He does share certain traits of character, however, that persuade me to be disposed in his favour."

"It is fortunate for Mr Darcy that he has already secured your promise of marriage. He might otherwise be concerned about the competition."

Elizabeth laughed. "What a ridiculous notion, Aunt! Mr Darcy can have no doubt of my affections. It will cheer you to hear that when he returned to the room, his dark mood was gone. He had the footmen clear the furnishings away, and the entire company danced for several hours. With Mrs Annesley, we made four couples. Mr Darcy was in high spirits the rest of the evening, or so he seemed—even when I danced with his cousins and Mr Fellows. Jealousy was not in his eyes or his actions, and he was most attentive to my comfort; indeed, he was so solicitous that were we not already engaged, I would think he was courting my favour. I responded to his good humour by teasing him with no mercy whatsoever, which appeared to provoke sincere pleasure on his part. I must conclude that his prior vexation was simply a symptom of his hope in my happiness and disappointment that I found so few in society agreeable."

"Perhaps you are right." Mrs Gardiner said, doubtfully.

"I believe I shall know soon enough. Lady Matlock sent an invitation through Miss de Bourgh. She is expecting several callers tomorrow and has requested that I join her to receive them. She is sensible of the fact that I cannot receive callers at Darcy House until after we are married, and Mr Darcy has requested that her ladyship not disclose this address, lest it cause a disruption to your household. He seems concerned that society may unduly impose upon your privacy and has enlisted his aunt's assistance in furthering my introduction to society at Fitzwilliam House."

"Oh," Mrs Gardiner's brows rose slightly. "I suppose it is intended kindly."

"I know that look, Aunt Gardiner; you are not pleased! I should have checked with you first, but I assure you no offense was intended by Mr Darcy; he only wished to spare you further inconvenience. We are both so grateful for your hospitality in allowing me to stay here for the season."

"Do not fret, Lizzy. We had not discussed the question of callers previously, and I had anticipated that you would have visitors as a matter of course. Your guests have always been welcome here in the past. As for society knowing where you live, I do wish Mr Darcy had expressed these thoughts to us previously. You see, I made a number of new acquaintances at the ball, and several inquired about which days I am at home. They are not the sort of company we usually keep; however, the new connections may prove fortunate, and I am delighted at the prospect of receiving them here."

"You have already given the address?"

"Why, yes, of course I have. It would have been ungracious to refuse them."

Elizabeth chuckled. "Well, that is a relief. If you do not consider it an imposition to receive callers, I am persuaded to do the same."

"Are you certain of Mr Darcy's reason for concealing your location? I recall a conversation you related to me that Jane had with Miss Bingley. I understand that she had disparaged Jane's Cheapside relations. Perhaps Mr Darcy shares Miss Bingley's opinion of the neighbourhood."

Elizabeth tipped her head, considering the possibility before answering with a shake, "That is true, but Mr Darcy has voiced no such reservations—not to me anyway. Besides, Gracechurch Street is not actually in Cheapside, only _near_ it."

"Lizzy, you do understand that those who reside in the fashionable districts shall not make such a distinction, do you not? Indeed, although I believe Gracechurch Street is perfectly lovely, it cannot be denied that we live as near the commercial areas as a person may comfortably reside."

"That is the heart of the matter, Aunt Gardiner. Mr Darcy clearly has high expectations of my gaining approval among those of his station_, _but those who may call on me here, if any would suffer the degradation of passing into this part of town, shall certainly find my accommodations inferior, and beneath them. I mean this as no slight to you, for I love you and my uncle, and I find no fault in your home; but I know enough of those who consider themselves superior to understand that they would hardly think a month's ablution enough to cleanse them from the impurities of Gracechurch Street, were they once to venture here."

"I am confused, Niece. Mr Darcy has never balked at our doorstep; indeed, he has always entered with an eager step. Is it possible that you are guilty of passing judgement on those of the first circles in the same breath as you convict them of the same fault? Perhaps, rather than supposing the worst of them, you ought to give them a chance to prove their true nature. Admitting callers here at Gardiner House may well strip the veneer of civility away if such is merely pretence. In this way you may discover those who would prove faithful friends. Surely you do not require the approval of all of London society to be happy."

"Oh, no," Elizabeth laughed. "With a mother who has never bestowed approval on me, I have long since overcome the need for adulation. A few intimate friends shall suffice for me! Mr Darcy's expression of concern over the matter has made me uncomfortable, however. I cannot be surprised at his hope that I shall get along among those of his acquaintance. I am unaccustomed to courting the good opinion of strangers, yet I will do so, if it pleases Mr Darcy."

"I cannot claim to know all things, Lizzy, but if there is one thing I am certain of, it is that Mr Darcy is _always_ pleased with you." Mrs Gardiner patted her niece's arm affectionately. "Since your social calendar may begin to be crowded soon, I would remind you that I receive callers on Tuesdays, and ask that you remain at home with me on Tuesday next, for we shall have several visitors who expect an introduction."

Elizabeth smiled, "Has my uncle decided about returning to Meryton for Miss Lucas's wedding? I know she is no relation of yours, but I very much wish to be there. Charlotte is my dearest friend next to Jane, and once she is wed to Mr Collins, I do not know when I shall see her once more."

"Sadly, Mr Gardiner cannot leave his business again so soon, but he has generously offered to send you in the chaise. Emilie shall travel with you, and with our driver and a footman along for protection, you will undoubtedly travel safely. It is the best we can do."

"Thank you, Aunt. The chaise is perfect! I shall travel to Meryton on a week from Friday if the weather allows. I know that Miss Lucas's wedding is not until the eighteenth, but this time of year, I daresay it is wise to anticipate the worst of the roads. If all goes well, I shall even have a few extra days at Longbourn before the wedding."

"I shall make the arrangements." Mrs Gardiner tipped her head, suddenly distracted from the conversation by voices in the corridor. "I believe Mr Lewin is at the door for your piano lesson. I shall speak more of this with you later, when your instruction for the day is done."

ooOoo

Colonel Fitzwilliam paced the floor of Darcy's study. "For a grand-daughter of an earl, our cousin Anne is abominably ill-equipped to navigate the nuances of even a minor intrigue."

Darcy set down his quill and leaned back in his chair. "She is far too well-bred to engage in one of your schemes, Fitz, but do not forget how very clever she was after the ball at Netherfield. Anne kept Aunt Catherine confined to her rooms and managed Caroline Bingley with finesse. Do not underestimate our cousin; she can handle her mother."

The colonel's pacing ceased as he planted his hands on Darcy's desk and leaned across it. "She informed her mother of Mr Fellows's presence last night—the very moment we entered the house! She had not yet removed her bonnet before the confession began. Aunt Catherine went into a rage! When Anne admitted that she had been also in company with Robert Darcy, yet declared that she preferred Mr Fellows, there was no peace to be had in any corner of Fitzwilliam House. The entire household was in an uproar. Our Aunt Catherine is, as your American cousin would say, on the warpath."

"You exaggerate," Darcy looked up at his cousin and shook his head.

"I am not finished." Colonel Fitzwilliam turned, feigning interest in the contents of a shelf. "Do you dare speculate who our aunt would blame for this turn of fortune?"

Darcy's eyes widened, "Blame?"

"Miss Bennet! That is who she blames! My father's sister is undoubtedly filling his ears this very moment with the evils that have already been brought to bear upon our family by your selfish choice of bride." The colonel stopped to pour himself a drink and waited for Darcy's full attention before proceeding, his tone echoing that of Lady Catherine. "Miss Bennet, it seems, has blinded you—drawn you in—forcing the _cruellest_ humiliation upon Anne, whose disappointed hopes of a future with you have exposed her to the ridicule and censure of the _ton_." Colonel Fitzwilliam paused to sip his drink, watching his cousin over the rim. "In despair, she has thrown herself into the arms of an _unworthy man_, a greedy country squire for whom an alliance with Anne is the means to gain an estate, and nothing more."

Darcy's face flushed, "That gentleman, Mr Fellows, has loved Anne for over ten years! His devotion is proved by his willingness to tolerate her mother to have her!"

The colonel held up his finger, wagging it in a gesture reminiscent of his aunt as he continued, "Miss Bennet must have orchestrated the tryst between Anne and Mr Fellows yesterday, for she knows her nephews would take no part in such a scheme. For her part, Anne would surely have accepted Robert Darcy as an alternative to his cousin but even this was stolen away from her by the trickery of that deceitful Miss Bennet!" Darcy opened his mouth to speak, but the colonel barely drew a breath. "There is more! She shall certainly make Georgiana unfit to be introduced into society in a year's time, for who will associate with the sister of such a hoyden as Miss Bennet? The stain of the connection shall take generations to overcome, if it ever can be, for the very foundations of the family honour are threatened by her introduction into it!"

Darcy's countenance became grim. "Your parents…do they take her seriously?"

The colonel resumed his pacing. "Her power to persuade is fierce when she is in high dudgeon. She has sown doubt, Darcy, but that is all thus far. My father is not easily fooled, yet he tends toward a like mind with his sister in matters of duty, honour and the reputation of the family. She will continue to work on him and on my mother too. It is fortunate that my father met Miss Bennet when he did and knows at least that she is no hoyden. As for Aunt Catherine, her effort to entrap Robert Darcy into marrying her daughter is only the beginning of this trial. She shall punish you for not choosing Anne, Darcy, mark my words."

Darcy shook his head emphatically. "She would disgrace the house of Fitzwilliam in so doing. She will not take such a risk."

"Aunt Catherine's tongue is as sharp as ever, yet her understanding of consequences has obviously dulled, or she would never have trapped Robert with Anne in the library. Though the scandals of others rage about her, there is naught but justification for herself." Colonel Fitzwilliam swirled the liquid in his cup in agitation. "My father cautioned her against interference, but his reach only goes so far with his sister. When I left the house, she was attempting to pry the address of Miss Bennet's uncle from my mother, under the pretence of desiring to know her future niece better." The colonel held his hand up as if to dispel Darcy's alarm. "Mother will not give the location to her, but you cannot doubt that our aunt shall make further inquiries until she knows precisely where your future wife resides."

Darcy grimaced and ran his hand through his hair in consternation before nodding his head slowly. "Do not trouble yourself any further, Fitzwilliam. I am warned."

ooOoo

When her lessons for the day had concluded, Elizabeth, avoiding the main hall, returned to her room and retrieved her father's letter to peruse yet again.

_My dearest Lizzy,_

_How surprised you must be to receive a letter from me. I shall not trifle with your curiosity, alas, deprived of your enjoyment at the joke when you realize what I am about; there is no point to such amusements. _

_I write to you with news so that you may be prepared for events which have occurred at an alarming pace. This morning, Mrs Bennet received Lady Lucas for a lengthy call. Upon her departure, Mrs Bennet entered my study in a state of excitement and related to me that which she had learned from her friend. Mrs Long had called on Lady Lucas yesterday, informing her early in the course of their conversation, that she has a cousin who lives in London. This cousin, it seems, is a seamstress in the employ of one Mrs Higgs who is the proprietress of a very fine dress shop in London. Mrs Long's cousin had written her upon the realization that their newest patron, Miss Bennet, was undoubtedly an acquaintance, being from the same area in Hertfordshire as Mrs Long. I will spare you the specifics of your mother's raptures over that which Lady Lucas related to her, except to say that I cannot fathom your mother's obsession with the length of sleeves and lace. Thank goodness you are sensible, dear Lizzy! This virtue has largely spared me her musings on the trimmings of your gowns—and a substantial sum of money!_

_As disastrous as this coincidence may be to your peace of mind, the tale is not yet at an end. Mrs Long, eager to prove her superior knowledge of your situation, informed Lady Lucas that the bills are paid by your uncle. Mrs Bennet, unaware of my arrangement to repay Mr Gardiner, has now quite convinced herself that her brother owes the same to his niece Mary, whose wedding is sooner than yours and, as the wife of the parson, requires clothing equal to her station. Your mother is even now making arrangements for a coach in which to return to Mr Gardiners London house with you the day after Miss Lucas's wedding and has proclaimed that you shall be obliged to arrange at least two social engagements for your sisters while they are in town. Perhaps I failed to mention that Mary and Lydia with be included in the party. Mary accepts the plan as a necessary preparation for her wedding, and Lydia has expressed great contentment at the prospect of visiting you in London, with particular anticipation of the delights of balls, plays and the opera._

_Mrs Bennet shall post a letter to Mr and Mrs Gardiner tomorrow, informing them of her plans, so one day's warning is all you shall have to consider all this before you must discuss it with the Gardiners. I do not doubt that Mr Darcy shall be put out by the prospect of such visitors, but it cannot be helped, unless Mr Gardiner refuses to allow it, which I do not foresee, since his patience with my wife generally exceeds her ability to try it. It is Mr Darcy's good fortune that circumstances prevent an extended stay, for I do not detect in him anything akin to the even temper of your uncle nor my tolerance for the chatter of women. As for me, I shall remain at Longbourn, having no interest in the warehouses or entertainments your mother anticipates with such delight. I can only hope that the necessarily short duration of her stay shall prevent her from exceeding our income. Perhaps, if I am lucky, severe weather shall keep her from the warehouses entirely. _

_You may be interested to know that Miss Lucas and Mr Collins are both eager for your arrival in Meryton, there being some weighty and private matter they wish to discuss with you. Mr Collins, who usually waxes so very eloquent on matters great and small, was quite unwilling to disclose the reason to me. _

_I also anticipate your return to Longbourn with an impatience which may surprise you. The household lacks conversation and good company in your absence, and I sorely miss your presence. Lydia has been in an ill humour since your departure, particularly in regard to losing the society of the officers, for although they are quartered in Meryton for the winter, with no sisters to accompany her into town, she has not the frequent opportunity to flirt with the soldiers that she once enjoyed._

_I close now my Lizzy with an expression of my desire that Mr Darcy has proven the man you had thought him to be. I cannot express any hope in that regard, for I know too well how men of his station truly are. This nature cannot but reveal itself to you ere long, and you shall thank me for saving you the trouble of discovering it before it is too late._

_Your loving Papa_

Elizabeth sighed and whispered as she returned the letter to the drawer, "Oh, Papa, how little you know of Mr Darcy. I shall persuade you of his goodness and convince you of his regard. It is good that I am coming home, very good indeed." She shivered and pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders as she left her room in search of her aunt.

* * *

**A/N **- The next chapter is getting close - you shouldn't have nearly as long of a wait for the next chapter, and I promise there is some more D & E time coming up - would you like a little fluff perhaps? Please do take a minute to comment - your comments make me smile, and smiling gives me endorphins and endorphins make me feel like writing, and when I feel like writing, I write. See where this is going?


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